The Life and Times of Col. Daniel Boone, Hunter, Soldier, and Pioneer

Then it was that a brief but virulent war broke out between the Indians and Colonies, caused, as will be remembered, by the murder of the family of the celebrated Mingo chief, Logan. The part played by Kenton in this campaign was the important one of scout, in the execution of which duties he tramped over the country around Fort Pitt and a great deal of the present State of Ohio.

There still lingered in the mind of the daring Kenton a strong faith in the statements made to him by Yager that there were sections of the surrounding country with a wonderfully rich soil, abundant vegetation, and immense numbers of game. He determined to make search for it, and met with little difficulty in persuading two friends to join in the hunt.

A strong canoe was constructed and stocked with provisions, and the trio paddled down the river to the mouth of Big Bone Creek, on which the famous Big Bone Lick stands. There they landed, and spent several days in exploring the surrounding country; but they were disappointed; nothing answering the representations of Yager was discovered.

Entering their canoe once more, they ascended the river to the entrance of Cabin Creek, a short distance above Maysville. With faith undiminished, they resolved upon a more thorough exploration. In the prosecution of this purpose they came upon May's Lick, where they saw that the surrounding soil possessed unusual richness. Striking the well-known great buffalo track, they followed it for a few hours, when they reached the Lower Blue Lick.

The flats upon each side of the river were swarming with thousands of buffalo that were attracted thither by the salt, while a number of magnificent elk were seen upon the crests of the ridges which surrounded the brackish springs.

"This is the place!" exclaimed the delighted Kenton; "this is the promised land that Yager saw! We need go no further!"

His companions agreed with him, and the delighted pioneers engaged in hunting at once. They could not fail to bring down a great many buffaloes and elk, when the splendid game had scarcely seen enough of their great enemy, man, to learn to fear him.

When they became surfeited with the sport, the three crossed the Licking, and, after a long tramp, came upon another buffalo trace, which led them to the Upper Blue Lick, where they saw the same bewildering abundance of game.

Fully satisfied now that they had discovered the richest and most promising section of all the West, they returned to their canoes, and went up the river as far as Green Bottom, where they had left their peltries, some ammunition, and a few agricultural implements, with the view of cultivating the inviting soil.

They lost no time in hurrying back and beginning the clearing of the land. An acre was denuded of trees in the middle of a large canebrake, planted with Indian corn, and a cabin erected. This was on the spot where Washington now stands.

The pioneers were in high spirits; for after a long search they had found the land they sighed for, and the future looked promising and bright. They settled down to hard work, and were confident that the fertility of the soil would yield them large returns.

While strolling about the woods one day, with no particular object in view, they were surprised to meet two men, named Hendricks and Fitzpatrick, who were in a sad plight. In descending the Ohio, their canoe had been upset by a sudden squall, and they were forced to swim ashore, without being able to save anything from the wreck. They had been wandering though the woods for several days, and would have perished soon had they not come upon the little party of pioneers.

Kenton had been in a similar predicament, and could not fail to sympathize with them. He urged them to join the diminutive settlement he had started at Washington, and trust to Providence to bring them out right in the end. Hendricks agreed to stay, but Fitzpatrick had had enough of the wilderness, and was so homesick that he only asked to get out of the unfriendly country and back to the Monongahela. Kenton and his companions went with him as far as Maysville, gave him a gun and some ammunition, assisted him across the river, and bade him good-by.

Pity it was that Hendricks did not accompany him, as the sequel will prove.

While Kenton and his two brother pioneers were doing this neighborly kindness for the one, Hendricks was at the cabin which had been erected a few days before. He had been left there without a gun, but with plenty of provisions, and no one dreamed of his being in danger.

The three men, having seen Fitzpatrick off, hastened back to the clearing, pleased at the thought of the companion they had gained, and regretting that the other man had not consented to join them.

When they reached the rough cabin they were somewhat alarmed to see nothing of Hendricks, and the quick eyes of the hunters observed that something unusual had taken place. A number of bullet-holes were noticed in the timbers, which were chipped in other places by the leaden missiles, while some of the articles of Hendricks were scattered around in a way which could leave no doubt he had been visited by Indians.

The fact that he had no weapon with which to defend himself, caused his friends to fear the worst, and with rapidly beating hearts they began an investigation, not knowing how close the peril was to them.

They had not hunted far, when they discovered a thin column of smoke rising from a ravine near at hand. Certain that a large war party of savages was near them, the three men were seized with a panic and fled in the greatest terror.

It was a curious thing for Kenton to do, for he was certainly one of the bravest of men. It would have been expected that he would insist on an investigation before such a precipitate flight, and it was always a source of deep regret to him in after-life that he did not do so.

Having reached a safe point, the trio hid themselves in the cane until the evening of the next day, when they once more ventured back to the clearing, and then approached the ravine from which they had seen the smoke of a camp-fire ascending.

Smoke was still visible, and when they ventured closer they were horrified to find only the charred bones of their late companion! He had been burned at the stake, and in all probability was alive when the others first saw the vapor on the previous day.

Had they not been so terrified by the belief that a large war party was at hand, they might have saved him. As we have said, it was the source of the deepest regret to Kenton that he did not reconnoitre the spot, when such a possibility of rescue existed.

CHAPTER II

Kenton and his Friends Visit Boonesborough – Desperate Encounter with Indians – Proceeds with Two Companions to Reconnoitre an Indian Town on the Little Miami – Captured while Making Off with a Number of Horses – Brutal Treatment – Bound to the Stake and Runs the Gauntlet – Friendship of Simon Girty, the Renegade – Finally Saved by an Indian Trader – Removed to Detroit, and Escapes – Commands a Company in General Clark's Expedition – Receives Good News – Visits Virginia – Death of his Father – Reduced to Poverty – Removes to Urbana, Ohio – Elected Brigadier-General – His Conversion – His Last Days

Simon Kenton and his two friends stayed at Washington until the following September, undisturbed by Indians, though they were never entirely free from apprehension of a visit from them.

In the month named they visited the Lick, where they encountered a white man, who told them most important news. The interior of Kentucky had been settled in several places, and there was a thriving pioneer station at Boonesborough.

Kenton and his friends were glad to learn this, for they had seen enough of the perils of the woods to long for the society of some of their own race. They immediately left their dangerous home, and, visiting the smaller settlements, made a prolonged stay at Boonesborough, where they were most gladly welcomed. During the two sieges of the place which we have described, Kenton was one of the garrison, and served with great efficiency as a spy and scout until the summer of 1778, when Boone came back from captivity and formed the plan for the attack upon the Indians at Paint Creek.

This expedition, which has already been referred to elsewhere, proved to be a most eventful one to Kenton, who acted as spy. After crossing the Ohio, he kept a considerable distance in advance, on the alert for the first evidence of Indians.

He was suddenly startled by hearing a loud laugh from an adjoining thicket, which he was on the point of entering. Like a flash the scout sprang behind a tree and with cocked rifle awaited the explanation.

He had but a few minutes to wait, when two Indians emerged from the thicket, mounted on a pony. Both were laughing and chatting in high spirits, and with no thought of anything like danger. They had been on some marauding expedition against the whites, and had met with such success that they seemed as elated as a couple of children.

Kenton held his place until they approached within easy distance, when he took careful aim and fired. The well-aimed shot killed the first and badly wounded the second, while the frightened pony whirled about and dashed into the thicket. Kenton instantly ran up to the slain Indian to scalp him, in accordance with the barbarous practice of the border, when a rustling on his right caused him to look up. To his amazement, there were two Indians not twenty yards distant, both of whom were in the act of taking aim at him.

The scout sprang aside at the instant both fired, and though the bullets whizzed close to his eyes he was uninjured. There could be no doubt that the neighborhood was a most undesirable one just then, for other warriors were near by, and Kenton lost no time in taking to the shelter of the woods.

Fleet as he was, he had no more than reached shelter, when a dozen Indians appeared on the margin of the canebrake and the situation of the scout became most serious; but, at this critical moment, Boone appeared with his party, who opened a brisk fire upon the Indians. The attack was so spirited that they broke and scattered, and Kenton was relieved from his perilous position.

Boone, as we have stated elsewhere, immediately returned to Boonesborough, but the intrepid Kenton determined to learn more of the Indians, and if possible to repay them for the attack they had made upon him.

Accompanied by a friend named Montgomery, they approached the Indian town not far off, and stationed themselves near a cornfield, expecting the red men would enter it for the purpose of roasting the ears. With that characteristic patience of the border scouts, they stayed beside the cornfield the entire day waiting and watching for a shot at some of the warriors. But during the time not a single one appeared, though the whites could hear the voices of the children playing near at hand.

The scouts were greatly disappointed, for they had been confident of seeing some warrior, but night came without such an opportunity having presented itself, and they were forced to ask themselves the question whether they would go back empty handed, so to speak, or whether they would incur some additional risk for the sake of accomplishing something by way of retaliation.

As the best they could do, they stealthily entered the Indian town late at night, picked out four good horses, made all haste to the Ohio, which they crossed in safety, and on the succeeding day reached Logan's fort without disturbance.

This was an extraordinary achievement, for the Indians and settlers were in such open hostility that it may be said the former were constantly on the alert to prevent just such surprises.

Colonel Bowman, at the fort, requested Kenton, Montgomery and a Mr. Clark to undertake a more difficult and dangerous task for him: that was a secret expedition to one of the Indian towns on the Little Miami, against which the Colonel meditated an expedition, and about which, of course, he was desirous of gaining all the information possible.

The duty was a congenial one to the three men, who reached the village without discovery, made a careful reconnoissance by night, and were then ready to return home.

Well would it have been for them had they done so, but the subsequent conduct of Kenton shows that his repeated escapes and continued immunity at the hands of the savages, had rendered him reckless, and caused him to estimate too highly perhaps his own prowess and skill as compared with theirs.

At this time, unfortunately, they discovered an enclosure where the Indians kept their horses. Like all borderers they dearly loved that kind of property, and could not resist the temptation. More than that, instead of selecting the best, they took the whole lot and started for the Ohio.

Such a wholesale proceeding created a good deal of confusion despite the care of the three scouts, and the Indians speedily discovered what was going on.

They poured out of their wigwams and lodges, in great excitement, all eager to prevent the loss of their property, while the whites showed an equal eagerness to get away with it. Instead of abandoning the animals and attempting to save themselves, they foolishly continued their effort to escape with them all.

One rode in front leading the animals, and the other two remained at the rear and lashed them into a gallop, through the woods, while the excited Indians came whooping and shrieking after them.

It was a wild, break-neck proceeding, but the scouts kept it up until they reached the edge of an impenetrable swamp, where, for the first time since starting, they came to a stand-still and listened for their pursuers.

Not a sound was heard, to indicate they were anywhere in the neighborhood, and the whites congratulated themselves on what looked like a remarkable achievement. But they were certain to be pursued, and skirting the swamp, they continued their flight in the direction of the Ohio, which was a long way distant.

The horses were pressed to the utmost, the riders frequently changing animals, through the night, the next day, and most of the following night. The next morning they stood on the northern bank of the Ohio.

The wind was blowing strongly, and the river was so boisterous that the crossing was sure to be difficult. At the same time they knew that their pursuers would not delay, and must be close behind them. A hurried consultation was held, and it was agreed that Kenton should swim the animals over while Montgomery and Clark constructed a raft to transport the baggage.

Accordingly Kenton led the animals into the river, while he swam at their side, but the stream had become so rough that he was forced away from them, and all he could do was to save himself from drowning. The horses being left to themselves turned about and swam back to the shore they had left a short time before.

This exasperating performance was repeated until Kenton became so exhausted that he was forced to lie down on the shore until he could recover his strength and wind.

A council of war, as it might be called, was then held and the question considered was whether they should abandon the animals and attend to their own safety, or risk their lives by waiting where they were until the Ohio should become calmer, in the hope of getting them to the other side. Nothing can show the great admiration of the men of the border for the noblest of all animals, than their immediate and unanimous agreement that they would never desert their horses.

The scouts committed the inexplainable blunder of staying where they were, knowing, as they must have known, that the infuriated warriors were rapidly coming up on their trail, and could be at no great distance behind them.

The wind continued churning the water all through the day, and did not abate until the next morning. Then, when they tried to force the steeds into the water, they refused and some of them broke away. The infatuated scouts lost more valuable time in the vain attempt to recapture them and, as was inevitable, the Indians soon made their appearance.

They were in such numbers, and so well armed, that it was useless to fight them, and Clark had sense enough to take to his heels. He succeeded in effecting his own escape. Montgomery was shot down and scalped, while Kenton was seized from behind, when on the very point of assailing a warrior in front, and pinioned. Others speedily gathered, beat and shook the scout, and pulled his hair, until he was tortured almost to death.

"Steal hoss of Indian, eh!" they exclaimed again and again as they beat him over the head with their ramrods.

When they had pounded him until they were tired, Kenton was thrown on his back, and his arms stretched out at full length. Pieces of saplings were then fastened to his arms and legs in such a manner that the poor fellow was literally unable to stir hand or foot.

While thus engaged they continued to beat and curse him in broken English. When he was strapped in his immovable position he was left until morning. No pen can picture the utter horror and misery of such a night, with arm and legs outstretched and with body incapable of any motion excepting a slight turn of the head.

It was a literal crucifixion, without the erection of the cross. Knowing the Indians so well, he did not entertain a particle of doubt that he would be put to death with the most fearful torture that can be imagined.

The fury of the Indians against Kenton seemed to increase rather than diminish. It would have been a very easy matter to tomahawk or slay him with knife or rifle, when he was so helpless, but that would have ended the matter and deprived them of the enjoyment they counted upon at such times.

In the morning they gave a Mazeppa performance, by tying Kenton fast to an unbroken colt and turning him loose. The horse, however, seemed to have more pity than his cruel masters, for after galloping a short distance about the others, he came back and rejoined them, continuing with the others until nightfall, when Kenton was taken off and fastened by buffalo thongs to the stakes of saplings as before.

For three days the terrible march continued, when the Indian town of Chillicothe was reached. The arrival of the prisoner created great excitement, and the chief Blackfish beat Kenton over the naked shoulders with hickory sticks until the blood flowed, and the poor fellow was almost delirious with agony.

All the cries he heard during this fearful punishment were those of fury. These soon changed to a demand that he should be tied to the stake, and it was done. His clothing was torn from his body, his hands fastened above his head, and the Indians danced about him beating and whooping and jeering at the prisoner, who expected every minute that the fire would be kindled at his feet.

Ordinarily this would have been done, but the desire to continue the torture was so great that the savages deferred the last awful tragedy, until they should extract more sport from the victim.

He was kept in this trying position until late at night, when he was released. It seemed as if it were intended that Simon Kenton should go through every form of Indian torture, for, on the morrow, he was led out and forced to run the gauntlet.

The preparations for this were so complete, and the Indians so numerous with their clubs and all sorts of weapons, that it can scarcely be doubted that Kenton would have been beaten to death, had he undertaken to speed the entire distance between the two long rows of Indians.

Instead of doing so, he darted aside and after doubling upon his pursuers, plunged into the council house, receiving only a few blows from the warriors standing near. Within this lodge was held the council to determine what course should be taken with their prisoner. There was no thought or releasing him, but some might prefer to delay the enjoyment of his death by torture no longer, while others were inclined to think it was too pleasant for them to allow the amusement to terminate so soon.

A comparison of views and a ballot showed that the majority were in favor of deferring his taking off a short while longer. His execution, therefore, was suspended for the time, and it was agreed to take him to an Indian town on Mad River, known as Waughcotomoco.

"What is to be done with me after we get there?" asked Kenton of the renegade who interpreted the sentence to him.

"Burn you at the stake," was the reply, accompanied by a brutal oath, as the white savage strode away.

Kenton was given back his clothing, and was not bound while on the road, as it was deemed impossible for him to escape from among his numerous, vigilant captors.

But, as there could be no doubt that his death by torture was fully determined, the prisoner was resolved on one desperate effort to escape, for in no sense could a failure result in making his condition worse than before.

He deferred the attempt until they were so close to Waughcotomoco, that the party exchanged signal whoops with the warriors of the town who began flocking thither to see the prisoner.

Feeling that it was then or never, Kenton uttered a shout and broke away like a frightened deer, the Indians following him, some on foot, and some on horseback. His great fleetness might have enabled him to escape, but while he was running from those behind, he came directly upon a party who were riding from the village to meet the others, and before he was hardly aware of his danger he was recaptured.

After suffering great indignities, they reached Waughcotomoco, where Kenton was forced to run the gauntlet again and was badly hurt. He was then taken to the council-house, where he sat in despair, while the warriors consulted as to the precise means of his death.

While they were thus engaged, Simon Girty and three companions came in with a white woman and seven children as prisoners. Kenton was taken away to make room for these, and as their fate now became a matter of debate, the session was protracted until a late hour. The verdict, however, was inevitable, and on the morrow, Simon Girty, the notorious renegade, gave himself the extreme pleasure of communicating the news to the hapless prisoner.

During this interview Girty was astounded to discover in the prisoner his former comrade, who had served with him as a spy in Dunmore's expedition. That was before Girty had foresworn his race, and the two men became warmly attached to each other.

Girty was greatly agitated, and instantly set to work to secure the release of the prisoner. The difficulty of this task can scarcely be imagined, for such a request was unprecedented; but Girty persevered, making the most ardent appeals and begging and insisting, until it was put to a vote, when it was agreed that the prayer, coming from one who had served them so faithfully as had the renegade for three years, could not be denied, and it was granted.

Kenton now remained a prisoner among the Indians for three weeks, during which Girty treated him with unvarying kindness. Indeed his conduct in this extraordinary matter is the single bright spot in the career of one of the most terrible wretches that ever lived.

At the end of the time mentioned, however, another council was held, and despite the strenuous efforts of Girty, Kenton was condemned to death at the stake. There now seemed no possible hope, and, telling his friend he had done all he could for him, Girty shook his hand and bade him good-by.

But Kenton's remarkable good fortune did not desert him. The great chief Logan gave him his friendship and did what he could to save him, when Kenton was brought to his village, which was a short distance away. His interference, however, seemed to be unavailing, and he was started for Sandusky under a strong escort, that being the place fixed upon for his final death by torture.

There, however, when Kenton had abandoned all hope, an Indian agent by the name of Drewyer interested himself in his behalf, and by an ingenious statagem secured his removal to Detroit.

He thus became a prisoner-of-war, as Detroit was in the possession of the British, and his situation was immeasurably improved. He was sure to be treated in a civilized manner, and in process of time would be set free.

The situation, however, was anything but agreeable to Kenton, who was continually seeking for some way of escape. None presented itself for a long time, and he remained working for the garrison on half-pay until the summer of 1779.

It was at this time that the longed-for opportunity presented itself, through the kindness of the wife of an Indian trader. Kenton knew well enough that it would never do to plunge into the wilderness without rifles and ammunition, and she agreed to furnish him and two Kentuckians with the indispensable articles.

It was no small task for a lady to secure three guns and ammunition without the assistance of any one, but she succeeded in doing so. In the early summer of that year, the Indians around Detroit engaged in one of their periodical carousals. It was at night, and before giving themselves over to their brutish indulgence they stacked their guns near the house of the lady.

Without difficulty she secured three of the best, and hid them in her garden. Previous to this she had gathered some extra clothing and the required ammunition, which were hidden in a hollow tree outside the town. She managed to communicate with Kenton, who, at the appointed time, appeared at the garden with his friends, got the guns, and thanking his preserver most fervently and receiving her best wishes in return, bade her good-by and hastened away with his companions.

There was no difficulty in stealing out of town, which was full of drunken Indians, but it never would have done to wait; both they and the guns would be missed in the morning, and search would be immediately made.

The hollow tree was easily found, and hastily equipping themselves with what was stored there, they plunged into the wilderness and started on their long and dangerous journey for Louisville, Kentucky.

Leaving the commonly-traveled route, they first headed for the prairies of the Wabash, and pushed on like veteran pioneers who knew they were continually in danger of pursuit. They lost no time on the road, nor did they cease to use continual vigilance.

They were over a month making their way through the solitudes, but finally reached Louisville, without accident, in the month of July, 1779.

Kenton had become so accustomed to his rough, adventurous life, that he chafed under the quiet and restraint of the town. Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, therefore, he struck into the woods alone and tramped to Vincennes to see his old friend, Major Clark. He was warmly greeted, but he found everything so dull and hum-drum that he re-entered the wilderness, and after a long journey reached Harrodsburg, where he was received with as much delight as though he were Daniel Boone himself.

In the famous expedition of General Clark against the Indians, described elsewhere, Simon Kenton commanded a company of volunteers from Harrod's Station, and was one of the bravest officers of that formidable campaign against the red men, whose outrages were becoming so serious that the blow was determined upon as a means of forcing them to stay within their own lines.

It will be remembered that the command of General Clark numbered over a thousand men, and it will be understood that it was the most effective demonstration that, up to that time, had ever been undertaken on the frontier. Chillicothe, Pickaway, and numerous smaller towns were burnt and all the crops destroyed.

It can well be believed that when they reached Pickaway and the Indians made a stand, the arm of Simon Kenton was nerved with tenfold power, for it was there, two years before, that he had been compelled to run the gauntlet and was beaten almost to death. It was with the memory of the terrible sufferings of that time that he led his company into action, and he fought, as did they, like Richard Cœur de Lion.

The warriors made a brave resistance, but were unable to withstand the furious attack, and soon were scattered like chaff, leaving their dead and wounded on the field. This campaign brought peace and quietness to the frontier during the following two years. Kenton engaged in hunting, or in assisting surveying parties, until 1782, when he received the most startling news of his life.

For eleven years he had been a wanderer in the woods, oftentimes in indescribable peril, suffering almost death over and over again, and never free from the remorse caused by that encounter with his rival so long before in Virginia, whom he believed he left dying upon the ground and from whose presence he fled like Cain from the vengeance of men.

But at the time mentioned Kenton received proof that the man was not killed in that desperate affray, but had recovered, and was then alive and well, as was also the aged father of Kenton.

It can scarcely be conceived how great a burden these tidings lifted from the heart of Simon Kenton, who was no longer afraid to reveal his identity and make inquiries about his friends. It was like entering upon a new and joyous life.

Kenton commanded another company in General Clark's campaign in the autumn of 1782, and, as before, acted as the guide of the army, his knowledge of the country and his consummate woodcraft rendering his services indispensable in that direction.

While this campaign was only one of the numerous similar ones which have marked the settlement of the West, and which, sad to say, were too often accompanied by overwhelming disaster, it was rendered memorable to Kenton by a singular and impressive engagement into which he entered.

It was when the army was on its return, when opposite the mouth of the Licking, Nov. 4th, 1782, that Captain McCracken, who was dying from a wound received in battle, suggested that all the pioneers of the expedition who might be living fifty years from that day, should meet on the spot to celebrate the semi-centennial of the campaign.