Daniel Boone: The Pioneer of Kentucky
of one of the extraordinary adventures of this man, which he received
from the lips of Colonel Boone himself. On one occasion, four Indians
suddenly appeared before his cabin and took him prisoner. Though the
delicacy of Colonel Boone's organization was such, that he could never
himself relish tobacco in any form, he still raised some for his friends
and neighbors, and for what were then deemed the essential rites of
hospitality.
"As a shelter for curing the tobacco, he had built an enclosure of rails
a dozen feet in height and covered with canes and grass. Stalks of
tobacco are generally split and strung on sticks about four feet in
length. The ends of these are laid on poles placed across the tobacco
house, and in tiers one above another, to the roof. Boone had fixed his
temporary shelter in such a manner as to have three tiers. He had
covered the lower tier and the tobacco had become dry; when he entered
the shelter for the purpose of removing the sticks to the upper tier,
preparatory to gathering the remainder of the crop. He had hoisted up
the sticks from the lower to the second tier, and was standing on the
poles which supported it, while raising the sticks to the upper tier,
when four stout Indians, with guns, entered the low door and called
him by name.
"'Now, Boone, we got you. You no get away more. We carry you off to
Chilicothe this time. You no cheat us anymore.'
"Boone looked down upon their upturned faces, saw their loaded guns
pointed at his breast, and recognising some of his old friends the
Shawanese, who had made him prisoner near the Blue Licks in 1778, coolly
and pleasantly responded:
"'Ah, old friends, glad to see you.'
"Perceiving that they manifested impatience to have him come down, he
told them he was quite willing to go with them, and only begged that
they would wait where they were, and watch him closely until he could
finish removing the tobacco.
"While thus parleying with them, Boone inquired earnestly respecting his
old friends in Chilicothe. He continued for some time to divert the
attention of these simple-minded men, by allusions to past events with
which they were familiar, and by talking of his tobacco, his mode of
curing it, and promising them an abundant supply. With their guns in
their hands however, they stood at the door of the shed, grouped closely
together so as to render his escape apparently impossible. In the
meantime Boone carefully gathered his arms full of the long, dry tobacco
leaves, filled with pungent dust, which would be blinding and stifling
as the most powerful snuff, and then with a leap from his station twelve
feet high, came directly upon their heads, filling their eyes and
nostrils, and so bewildering and disabling them for the moment, that
they lost all self-possession and all self-control.
"Boone, agile as a deer, darted out at the door, and in a moment was in
his bullet-proof log-hut, which to him was an impregnable citadel.
Loop-holes guarded every approach. The Indians could not show themselves
without exposure to certain death. They were too well acquainted with
the unerring aim of Boone's rifle to venture within its range. Keeping
the log cabin between them and their redoubtable foe, the baffled
Indians fled into the wilderness.
"Colonel Boone related this adventure with great glee, imitating the
gestures of the bewildered Indians. He said that notwithstanding his
narrow escape, he could not resist the temptation, as he reached the
door of his cabin, to look around to witness the effect of his
achievement. The Indians coughing, sneezing, blinded and almost
suffocated by the tobacco dust, were throwing out their arms and groping
about in all directions, cursing him for a rogue and calling themselves
fools."
CHAPTER XI.
_Kentucky organized as a State._
Peace with England.--Order of a Kentucky Court.--Anecdotes.--Speech of Mr.
Dalton.--Reply of Piankashaw.--Renewed Indications of Indian
Hostility.--Conventions at Danville.--Kentucky formed into a State.--New
Trials for Boone.
The close of the war of the Revolution, bringing peace between the
colonies and the mother country, deprived the Indians of that powerful
alliance which had made them truly formidable. Being no longer able to
obtain a supply of ammunition from the British arsenals, or to be guided
in their murderous raids by British intelligence, they also, through
their chiefs, entered into treaties of peace with the rapidly-increasing
emigrants.
Though these treaties with the Indians prevented any general
organization of the tribes, vagabond Indians, entirely lawless, were
wandering in all directions, ever ready to perpetrate any outrage. Civil
society has its highway robbers, burglars and murderers. Much more so
was this the case among these savages, exasperated by many wrongs; for
it cannot be denied that they were more frequently sinned against than
sinning. Their untutored natures made but little distinction between the
innocent and the guilty. If a vagabond white man wantonly shot an
Indian--and many were as ready to do it as to shoot a wolf--the friends
of the murdered Indian would take revenge upon the inmates of the first
white man's cabin they encountered in the wilderness. Thus it was
necessary for the pioneers to be constantly upon their guard. If they
wandered any distance from the fort while hunting, or were hoeing in the
field, or ventured to rear a cabin on a fertile meadow at a distance
from the stations, they were liable to be startled at any hour of the
day or of the night by the terrible war-whoop, and to feel the weight of
savage vengeance.
This exposure to constant peril influenced the settlers, as a general
rule, to establish themselves in stations. This gave them companionship,
the benefits of co-operative labor, and security against any small
prowling bands. These stations were formed upon the model of the one
which Daniel Boone had so wisely organized at Boonesborough. They
consisted of a cluster of bullet-proof log-cabins, arranged in a
quadrangular form, so as to enclose a large internal area. All the doors
opened upon this interior space. Here the cattle were gathered at night.
The intervals between the cottages were filled with palisades, also
bullet-proof. Loop-holes through the logs enabled these riflemen to
guard every approach to their fortress. Thus they had little to fear
from the Indians when sheltered by these strong citadels.
Emigration to Kentucky began very rapidly to increase. Large numbers
crossed the mountains to Pittsburgh, where they took flat boats and
floated down the beautiful Ohio, _la belle riviere_, until they reached
such points on its southern banks as pleased them for a settlement, or
from which they could ascend the majestic rivers of that peerless State.
Comfortable homesteads were fast rising in all directions. Horses,
cattle, swine, and poultry of all kinds were multiplied. Farming
utensils began to make their appearance. The hum of happy industry was
heard where wolves had formerly howled and buffalo ranged. Merchandise
in considerable quantities was transported over the mountains on pack
horses, and then floated down the Ohio and distributed among the
settlements upon its banks. Country stores arose, land speculators
appeared, and continental paper money became a circulating medium. This
money, however, was not of any very great value, as may be inferred from
the following decree, passed by one of the County Courts, establishing
the schedule of prices for tavern-keeping:
"The Court doth set the following rates to be observed by keepers in
this county: Whiskey, fifteen dollars the half-pint; rum, ten dollars
the gallon; a meal, twelve dollars; stabling or pasturage, four dollars
the night."
Under these changed circumstances, Colonel Boone, whose intrepidity
nothing could daunt, and whose confidence in the protective power of his
rifle was unbounded, had reared for himself, on one of the beautiful
meadows of the Kentucky, a commodious home. He had selected a spot whose
fertility and loveliness pleased his artistic eye.
It is estimated that during the years 1783 and 1784 nearly twelve
thousand persons emigrated to Kentucky. Still all these had to move with
great caution, with rifles always loaded, and ever on the alert against
surprise. The following incident will give the reader an idea of the
perils and wild adventures encountered by these parties in their search
for new and distant homes.
Colonel Thomas Marshall, a man of much note in those days, had crossed
the Alleghanies with his large family. At Pittsburgh he purchased a
flat-boat, and was floating down the Ohio. He had passed the mouth of
the Kanawha River without any incident of note occurring. About ten
o'clock one night, as his boat had drifted near the northern shore of
the solitary stream, he was hailed by a man upon the bank, who, after
inquiring who he was, where he was bound, etc., added:
"I have been posted here by order of my brother, Simon Gerty, to warn
all boats of the danger of permitting themselves to be decoyed ashore.
My brother regrets very deeply the injury he has inflicted upon the
white men, and to convince them of the sincerity of his repentance, and
of his earnest desire to be restored to their society, he has stationed
me here to warn all boats of the snares which are spread for them by the
cunning of the Indians. Renegade white men will be placed upon the
banks, who will represent themselves as in the greatest distress. Even
children taken captive will be compelled, by threats of torture, to
declare that they are all alone upon the shore, and to entreat the boats
to come and rescue them.
"But keep in the middle of the river," said Gerty, "and steel your heart
against any supplications you may hear."
The Colonel thanked him for his warning, and continued to float down the
rapid current of the stream.
Virginia had passed a law establishing the town of Louisville, at the
Falls of the Ohio. A very thriving settlement soon sprang up there.
The nature of the warfare still continuing between the whites and the
Indians may be inferred from the following narrative, which we give in
the words of Colonel Boone:
"The Indians continued to practice mischief secretly upon the
inhabitants in the exposed part of the country. In October a party made
an incursion into a district called Crab Orchard. One of these Indians
having advanced some distance before the others, boldly entered the
house of a poor defenseless family, in which was only a negro man, a
woman and her children, terrified with apprehensions of immediate death.
The savage, perceiving their defenseless condition, without offering
violence to the family, attempted to capture the negro, who happily
proved an over-match for him, and threw the Indian on the ground.
"In the struggle, the mother of the children drew an axe from the corner
of the cottage and cut off the head of the Indian, while her little
daughter shut the door. The savages soon appeared, and applied their
tomahawks to the door. An old rusty gun-barrel, without a lock, lay in
the corner, which the mother put through a small crevice, and the
savages perceiving it, fled. In the meantime the alarm spread through
the neighborhood; the armed men collected immediately and pursued the
savages into the wilderness. Thus Providence, by means of this negro,
saved the whole of the poor family from destruction."
The heroism of Mrs. Merrill is worthy of being perpetuated, not only as
a wonderful achievement, but as illustrative of the nature of this
dreadful warfare. Mr. Merrill, with his wife, little son and daughter,
occupied a remote cabin in Nelson County, Kentucky. On the 24th of
December, 1791, he was alarmed by the barking of his dog. Opening the