Daniel Boone: The Pioneer of Kentucky
"He sprang behind a small elm scarcely sufficient to protect his body,
when, the smoke partly rising, discovered to him a number of Indians,
upon whom he fired, and shot down the foremost one. Concealed still by
the smoke, Higgins reloaded, mounted his horse, and turned to fly, when
a voice, apparently from the grass, hailed him with: Tom, you won't
leave me, will you?
"He turned immediately around, and seeing a fellow soldier by the name
of Burgess lying on the ground, wounded and gasping for breath, replied,
'No, I will not leave you; come along.' 'I can't come,' said Burgess,
'my leg is all smashed to pieces.'
"Higgins dismounted, and taking up his friend, whose ankle had been
broken, was about to lift him on his horse, when the animal, taking
fright, darted off in an instant and left them both behind. 'This is too
bad,' said Higgins, 'but don't fear. You hop off on your three legs and
I will stay behind between you and the Indians and keep them off. Get
into the tallest grass and creep as near the ground as possible.'
Burgess did so and escaped.
"The smoke which had hitherto concealed Higgins now cleared away, and he
resolved, if possible, to retreat. To follow the track of Burgess was
most expedient. It would, however, endanger his friend. He determined,
therefore, to venture boldly forward and, if discovered, to secure his
own safety by the rapidity of his flight. On leaving a small thicket in
which he had sought refuge, he discovered a tall, portly savage near by,
and two others in the direction between him and the fort.
"He started, therefore, for a little rivulet near, but found one of his
limbs failing him, it having been struck by a ball in the first
encounter, of which, till now, he was scarcely conscious. The largest
Indian pressed close upon him, and Higgins turned round two or three
times in order to fire. The Indian halted and danced about to prevent
his taking aim. He saw that it was unsafe to fire at random, and
perceiving two others approaching, knew that he must be overpowered
unless he could dispose of the forward Indian first. He resolved,
therefore, to halt and receive his fire.
"The Indian raised his rifle, and Higgins, watching his eye, turned
suddenly as his finger pressed the trigger, and received the ball in his
thigh. He fell, but rose immediately and ran. The foremost Indian, now
certain of his prey, loaded again, and with the other two pressed on.
They overtook him. He fell again, and as he rose the whole three fired,
and he received all their balls. He now fell and rose a third time, and
the Indians, throwing away their guns, advanced upon him with spears and
knives. As he presented his gun at one or another, each fell back. At
last the largest Indian, supposing his gun to be empty, from his fire
having been thus reserved, advanced boldly to the charge. Higgins fired
and the savage fell.
"He had now four bullets in his body, an empty gun in his hand, two
Indians unharmed as yet before him, and a whole tribe but a few yards
distant. Any other man would have despaired. Not so with him. He had
slain the most dangerous of the three, and having but little to fear
from the others, began to load his rifle. They raised a savage whoop and
rushed to the encounter. A bloody conflict now ensued. The Indians
stabbed him in several places. Their spears, however, were but thin
poles, hastily prepared, and which bent whenever they struck a rib or a
muscle. The wounds they made were not therefore deep, though numerous.
"At last one of them threw his tomahawk. It struck him upon the cheek,
severed his ear, laid bare his skull to the back of his head, and
stretched him upon the prairie. The Indians again rushed on, but
Higgins, recovering his self-possession, kept them off with his feet
and hands. Grasping at length one of their spears, the Indian, in
attempting to pull it from him, raised Higgins up, who, taking his
rifle, dashed out the brains of the nearest savage. In doing this,
however, it broke, the barrel only remaining in his hand. The other
Indian, who had heretofore fought with caution, came now manfully into
the battle. His character as a warrior was in jeopardy. To have fled
from a man thus wounded and disarmed, or to have suffered his victim to
escape, would have tarnished his fame for ever. Uttering, therefore, a
terrific yell, he rushed on and attempted to stab the exhausted ranger.
But the latter warded off his blow with one hand and brandished his
rifle barrel with the other. The Indian was as yet unharmed, and, under
existing circumstances, by far the most powerful man. Higgins' courage,
however, was unexhausted and inexhaustible.
"The savage at last began to retreat from the glare of his untamed eye
to the spot where he had dropped his rifle. Higgins knew that if he
recovered that, his own case was desperate. Throwing, therefore, his
rifle barrel aside, and drawing his hunting knife he rushed upon his
foe. A desperate strife ensued--deep gashes were inflicted on both
sides. Higgins, fatigued and exhausted by the loss of blood, was no
longer a match for the savage. The latter succeeded in throwing his
adversary from him, and went immediately in pursuit of his rifle.
Higgins at the same time rose and sought for the gun of the other
Indian. Both, therefore, bleeding and out of breath, were in search of
arms to renew the combat.
"The smoke had now passed away, and a large number of Indians were in
view. Nothing, it would seem, could now save the gallant ranger. There
was, however, an eye to pity and an arm to save, and that arm was a
woman's. The little garrison had witnessed the whole combat. It
consisted of but six men and one woman; that woman, however, was a
host--a Mrs. Pursley. When she saw Higgins contending single-handed with
a whole tribe of savages, she urged the rangers to attempt his rescue.
The rangers objected, as the Indians were ten to one. Mrs. Pursley,
therefore, snatched a rifle from her husband's hand, and declaring that
'so fine a fellow as Tom Higgins should not be lost for want of help,'
mounted a horse and sallied forth to his rescue.
"The men, unwilling to be outdone by a woman, followed at full gallop,
reached the spot where Higgins had fainted and fell, before the Indians
came up, and while the savage with whom he had been engaged was looking
for his rifle, his friends lifted the wounded ranger up and throwing him
across a horse before one of the party, reached the fort in safety.
"Higgins was insensible for several days, and his life was preserved by
continued care. His friends extracted two of the balls from his thigh.
Two, however, yet remained, one of which gave him a good deal of pain.
Hearing afterwards that a physician had settled within a day's ride of
him, he determined to go and see him. The physician asked him fifty
dollars for the operation. This Higgins flatly refused, saying that it
was more than half a year's pension. On reaching home he found that the
exercise of riding had made the ball discernable; he requested his wife,
therefore, to hand him his razor. With her assistance he laid open his
thigh until the edge of the razor touched the bullet, then, inserting
his two thumbs into the gash, 'he flirted it out,' as he used to say,
'without it costing him a cent.'
"The other ball yet remained. It gave him, however, but little pain, and
he carried it with him to the grave. Higgins died in Fayette County,
Illinois, a few years ago. He was the most perfect specimen of a
frontier man in his day, and was once assistant door-keeper of the House
of Representatives in Illinois. The facts above stated are familiar to
many to whom Higgins was personally known, and there is no doubt of
their correctness."[E]
[Footnote E: Brown's Illinois.]
This narrative gives one a very vivid idea of the nature of the conflict
in which Boone, through so many years of his life, was engaged. The
little fort, whose feeble garrison he commanded, was liable at any time
to be assailed by overwhelming numbers.
Daniel Boone, during his occupancy of the fort at Boonesborough,
manifested the most constant vigilance to guard against surprise. He was
however struggling against a foe whose cunning and strategems were such,
as not to allow him an hour of quiet. One morning two men laboring in
the field were shot at by the Indians. Not being hit, they ran for the
fort. They were pursued by the savages, and one was tomahawked and
scalped within a few hundred feet of the gate. Boone hearing the alarm,
inconsiderately rushed out with ten men upon the miscreants. They fled
before him hotly pursued. In the eagerness of the chase, Boone had not
counted the number of his foes. Some of them rushing from their ambush
cut off his retreat. At one discharge, six of his men fell wounded.
Boone's leg was shattered by a ball.
As he fell to the ground, the tomahawk of a savage was over his head.
Simon Kenton, who was one of Boone's party, with sure aim pierced the
heart of the savage with a rifle bullet and he fell dead. Reinforcements
rushed from the fort, and fortunately succeeded in rescuing the
adventurous party, the wounded and all. It is said of Boone, that
though a silent man and not given to compliments, he manifested very
deep gratitude to his friend Kenton for saving his life. The very
peculiar character of Boone is vividly presented in the following
sketch, from the graphic pen of Mr. Peck:
"As dangers thickened and appearances grew more alarming, as scouts came
in with rumors of Indians seen here and there, and as the hardy and bold
woodsmen sat around their camp-fires with the loaded rifle at hand,
rehearsing for the twentieth time the tales of noble daring, or the
hair-breadth escapes, Boone would sit silent, apparently not heeding the
conversation, employed in repairing the rents in his hunting shirt and
leggins, moulding bullets or cleaning his rifle. Yet the eyes of the
garrison were upon him. Concerning 'Indian signs' he was an oracle.
"Sometimes with one or two trusty companions, but more frequently alone,
as night closed in, he would steal noiselessly away into the woods, to
reconnoiter the surrounding wilderness. And in the day time, stealthily
would he creep along with his trusty rifle resting on his arm, ready for
the least sign of danger, his keen, piercing eyes glancing into every
thicket and canebrake, or watch intently for 'signs' of the wiley enemy.
Accustomed to range the country as a hunter and a scout, he would
frequently meet the approaching travelers on the road and pilot them
into the settlement, while his rifle supplied them with provisions. He
was ever more ready to aid the community, or to engage in public
services, than to attend to his private interests."
The want of salt had become one of the greatest privations of the
garrison. It was an article essential to comfort and health, and yet, in
the warfare then existing, was almost impossible of attainment. Upon the
Sicking river, nearly a hundred miles north from Boonesborough, there
were valuable springs richly impregnated with salt. Animals from all
quarters frequented these springs, licking the saturated clay around
them. Hence the name of Salt Licks. Evaporating the water by boiling in
large kettles, salt of a good quality was easily obtained. The
necessities of the garrison became so great, that Colonel Boone took a
well-armed party of thirty men, and threading their way through the
wilderness, at length reached the springs unassailed. It was one of the
boldest of adventures. It was certain that the watchful Indians would
learn that a party had left the cover of the fort, and would fall upon
them with great ferocity.
Colonel Boone, who desired to obtain salt for all the garrisons, deemed
it consequently necessary to work night and day with the greatest