Daniel Boone: The Pioneer of Kentucky
Upon one of the branches of the Scioto river, which stream runs about
sixty miles east of the Little Miami, there were some salt springs.
Early in June a party of the Indians set out for these "Licks" to make
salt. They took Boone with them. The Indians were quite averse to
anything like hard work. Boone not only understood the process of
manufacture perfectly, but was always quietly and energetically devoted
to whatever he undertook. The Indians, inspired by the double motive of
the desire to obtain as much salt as possible, and to hold securely the
prisoner, whom they so highly valued, kept him so busy at the kettles as
to give him no opportunity to escape.
After an absence of about a fortnight, they returned with a good supply
of salt to the Little Miami. Here Boone was quite alarmed to find that
during his absence the chiefs had been marshaling a band of four hundred
and fifty of their bravest warriors to attack Boonesborough. In that
fort were his wife and his children. Its capture would probably insure
their slaughter. He was aware that the fort was not sufficiently guarded
by its present inmates, and that, unapprehensive of impending danger,
they were liable to be taken entirely by surprise. Boone was
sufficiently acquainted with the Shawanese dialect to understand every
word they said, while he very sagaciously had assumed, from the moment
of his captivity, that he was entirely ignorant of their language.
Boone's anxiety was very great. He was compelled to assume a smiling
face as he attended their war dances. Apparently unmoved, he listened
to the details of their plans for the surprise of the fort. Indeed, to
disarm suspicion and to convince them that he had truly become one of
their number, he co-operated in giving efficiency to their hostile
designs against all he held most dear in the world.
It had now become a matter of infinite moment that he should immediately
escape and carry to his friends in the fort the tidings of their peril.
But the slightest unwary movement would have led the suspicious Indians
so to redouble their vigilance as to render escape utterly impossible.
So skilfully did he conceal the emotions which agitated him, and so
successfully did he feign entire contentment with his lot, that his
captors, all absorbed in the enterprise in which they were engaged,
remitted their ordinary vigilance.
On the morning of the sixteenth of June, Boone rose very early to take
his usual hunt. With his secreted ammunition, and the amount allowed him
by the Indians for the day, he hoped to be able to save himself from
starvation, during his flight of five days through the pathless
wilderness. There was a distance of one hundred and sixty miles between
Old Chilicothe and Boonesborough. The moment his flight should be
suspected, four hundred and fifty Indian warriors, breathing vengeance,
and in perfect preparation for the pursuit, would be on his track. His
capture would almost certainly result in his death by the most cruel
tortures; for the infuriated Indians would wreak upon him all their
vengeance.
It is however not probable that this silent, pensive man allowed these
thoughts seriously to disturb his equanimity. An instinctive trust in
God seemed to inspire him. He was forty-three years of age. In the
knowledge of wood-craft, and in powers of endurance, no Indian surpassed
him. Though he would be pursued by sagacious and veteran warriors and by
young Indian braves, a pack of four hundred and fifty savages following
with keener scent than that of the bloodhound, one poor victim, yet
undismayed, he entered upon the appalling enterprise. The history of the
world perhaps presents but few feats so difficult, and yet so
successfully performed. And yet the only record which this modest man
makes, in his autobiography, of this wonderful adventure is as follows:
"On the sixteenth, before sunrise, I departed in the most secret manner,
and arrived at Boonesborough on the twentieth, after a journey of one
hundred and sixty miles, during which I had but one meal."
It was necessary, as soon as Boone got out of sight of the village, to
fly with the utmost speed, to put as great a distance as possible
between himself and his pursuers, before they should suspect his attempt
at escape. He subsequently learned that as soon as the Indians
apprehended that he had actually fled, there was the most intense
commotion in their camp, and immediately a large number of their
fleetest runners and keenest hunters were put upon his trail. He dared
not fire a gun. Had he killed any game he could not have ventured to
kindle a fire to cook it. He had secretly provided himself with a few
cuts of dried venison with which he could appease his hunger as he
pressed forward by day and by night, scarcely allowing himself one
moment for rest or sleep. His route lay through forests and swamps, and
across many streams swollen by recent rains.
At length he reached the Ohio river. Its current was swift and turbid,
rolling in a majestic flood half a mile in width, filling the bed of the
stream with almost fathomless waters from shore to shore. Experienced as
Colonel Boone was in wood-craft, he was not a skilful swimmer. The
thought of how he should cross the Ohio had caused him much anxiety.
Upon reaching its banks he fortunately--may we not say
providentially--found an old canoe which had drifted among the bushes
upon the shore. There was a large hole at one end, and it was nearly
filled with water. He succeeded in bailing out the water and plugging
up the hole, and crossed the river in safety. Then for the first time he
so far indulged in a feeling of security as to venture to shoot a
turkey, and kindling a fire he feasted abundantly upon the rich repast.
It was the only meal in which he indulged during his flight of five
days.
On his arrival at Boonesborough, he was welcomed as one risen from the
grave. Much to his disappointment he found that his wife with his
children, despairing of ever seeing him again, had left the fort and
returned to the house of her father, in North Carolina. She supposed
that the Indians had killed him. "Oppressed," writes Boone, "with the
distresses of the country and bereaved of me, her only happiness, she
had undertaken her long and perilous journey through the wilderness." It
is gratifying to record that she reached her friends in safety.
Boone found the fort as he had apprehended, in a bad state of defence.
His presence, his military skill, and the intelligence he brought,
immediately inspired every man to the intensest exertion. The gates were
strengthened, new bastions were formed, and provisions were laid in, to
stand a siege. Everything was done which could be done to repel an
assault from they knew not how many savages, aided by British leaders,
for the band from old Chilicothe, was to be joined by warriors from
several other tribes. In ten days, Boonesborough was ready for the
onset. These arduous labors being completed, Boone heroically resolved
to strike consternation into the Indians, by showing them that he was
prepared for aggressive as well as defensive warfare, and that they must
leave behind them warriors for the protection of their own villages.
Selecting a small party of but nineteen men, about the first of August
he emerged from Boonesborough, marched boldly to the Ohio, crossed the
river, entered the valley of the Scioto, and was within four miles of an
Indian town, Paint Creek, which he intended to destroy, when he chanced
to encounter a band of thirty savages painted, thoroughly armed and on
the war path, to join the band advancing from Old Chilicothe. The
Indians were attacked with such vehemence by Boone, that they fled in
consternation, leaving behind them three horses and all their baggage.
The savages also lost one killed and two wounded, while they inflicted
no loss whatever upon the white men.
Boone sent forward some swift runners as spies, and they speedily
returned with the report that the Indians in a panic had entirely
abandoned Paint Creek. Aware that the warriors would rush to join the
four hundred and fifty from Old Chilicothe, and that they might cut off
his retreat, or reach Boonesborough before his return, he immediately
commenced a rapid movement back to the fort. Every man would be needed
there for an obstinate defence. This foray had extended one hundred and
fifty miles from the fort. It greatly alarmed the Indians. It emboldened
the hearts of the garrison, and gave them intelligence of the approach
of their foes. After an absence of but seven days, Boone with his heroic
little band quite triumphantly re-entered the fort.
The approach of the foe is described in the following terms by Boone:
"On the eighth of August, the Indian army arrived, being four hundred
and forty-four in number, commanded by Captain Duquesne, eleven other
Frenchmen and some of their own chiefs, and marched up in view of our
fort, with British and French colors flying. And having sent a summons
to me in His Britannic Majesty's name to surrender the fort, I requested
two days' consideration which was granted. It was now a critical period
with us. We were a small number in the garrison; a powerful army before
our walls, whose appearance proclaimed inevitable death; fearfully
painted and marking their footsteps with desolation. Death was
preferable to captivity; and if taken by storm, we must inevitably be
devoted to destruction.
"In this situation we concluded to maintain our garrison if possible. We
immediately proceeded to collect what we could of our horses and other
cattle, and bring them through the posterns into the fort; and in the
evening of the ninth, I returned the answer 'that we were determined to
defend our fort while a man was living.'
"'Now,' said I to their commander who stood attentively hearing my
sentiments, 'we laugh at your formidable preparations, but thank you for
giving us notice, and time for our defence. Your efforts will not
prevail, for our gates shall forever deny you admittance.'
"Whether this answer affected their courage or not, I cannot tell, but
contrary to our expectations, they formed a scheme to deceive us,
declaring it was their orders from Governor Hamilton to take us
captives, and not to destroy us; but if nine of us would come out and
treat with them, they would immediately withdraw their forces from our
walls, and return home peaceably. This sounded grateful in our ears, and
we agreed to the proposal."
CHAPTER IX.
_Victories and Defeats._
Situation of the Fort.--Indian Treachery.--Bombardment.--Boone goes to
North Carolina.--New Trials.--Boone Robbed.--He Returns to
Kentucky.--Massacre of Col. Rogers.--Adventure of Col. Bowman.--New
Attack by the British and Indians.--Retaliatory Measures.--Wonderful
Exploit.
There were but fifty men in the garrison at Boonesborough. They were
assailed by a body of more than ten to one of the bravest Indian
warriors, under the command of an officer in the British army. The
boldest in the fort felt that their situation was almost desperate. The
ferocity of the Indian, and the intelligence of the white man, were
combined against them. They knew that the British commander, however
humane he might be, would have no power, should the fort be taken by
storm, to save them from death by the most horrible tortures.
General Duquesne was acting under instructions from Governor Hamilton,
the British officer in supreme command at Detroit. Boone knew that the
Governor felt very kindly towards him. When he had been carried to that
place a captive, the Governor had made very earnest endeavors to obtain
his liberation. Influenced by these considerations, he consented to
hold the conference.
But, better acquainted with the Indian character than perhaps Duquesne