While we could not rightfully take much praise to ourselves for having captured a post where no resistance was made, the members of Major Clarke's force, including even Paul and myself, looked with triumph upon the exploit, bloodless though it had proven to be.

Surely the king would not have thus lost possession of his outpost had we, meaning the entire company, remained at home, and, therefore, might we claim that the garrison was now held in the name of the province of Virginia solely through our efforts.

As we learned next day from those to whom Major Clarke had confided the facts, many of Monsieur Rocheblave's papers had been destroyed by his wife after he was made prisoner, for our people did not consider it necessary to make a woman captive. She was allowed to retain possession of the house until morning, and during that time burned many papers which should have come into our keeping.

There was not time, however, for her to destroy all Monsieur's correspondence, and enough was found to prove beyond a doubt that he, acting under instructions from England, had been inciting the Indians to hostilities against such of the settlers as dared believe the rebellious colonists were in the right.

I believe of a verity our men would have wreaked speedy vengeance upon this Frenchman who had caused the death and torture of so many of our countrymen, but for Major Clarke's presence of mind.

Immediately after learning that the members of the force were aware of the Frenchman's guilt, he detailed twenty of the most reliable men – those whom he could trust to carry out his orders to the letter, and sent them in charge of Monsieur Rocheblave and his wife to Williamsburg in Virginia, that the wicked man might be tried for the crimes he had committed against defenseless women and children.

The party set off before noon of the day following our capture of the garrison, at a time when our people were occupied in other directions, and thus no act was committed which might have brought shame upon us, although I hold even now that it would not have been wrong had we wiped out Monsieur Rocheblave's crime with his own life, regardless of the fact that he, being a prisoner, was entitled to our protection.

He had entertained no such notions of honor when he set the savages upon the defenseless settlers, knowing full well how much of horrible suffering would be caused.

He left with a whole skin, however, as I know full well, since Paul and I aided in making ready the boat which was to carry the party to the mouth of the Ohio River, from which point they would strike across the country to Williamsburg.

The Frenchman's wife went with him, as a matter of course, and I have since tried to learn what became of the scoundrel, but without success. He deserved hanging, if ever any man did, although many people claimed that he was not really guilty, since he had but carried out the orders given by his superiors.

Had any of those who pleaded so eloquently for his release known what it was to have a father tortured to death, as I knew, there would have been leas said in favor of such a wretch.

However, that has nothing to do with the story of what Paul Sampson and I did and saw while we scouted in company with Simon Kenton.

When our people learned that Monsieur Rocheblave had been sent away with a whole skin, for, as I have said, all the preparations for his departure were made with the utmost secrecy and he and his wife smuggled on board the boat, there was something very like mutiny in the camp, and Major Clarke had quite as big a job to quiet the men as he could well handle; but the volunteers soon settled down quietly, promising themselves that the time would come when they might have more voice in deciding the fate of the Frenchman.

Having seized the outpost, it was as if Major Clarke counted on loitering in Kaskaskia without making any further effort toward capturing the other possessions of the king's on the Mississippi River.

During three days we remained quietly in the settlement, amusing ourselves as best we might, and many of the company indulged in much grumbling because of the inactivity.

We had come to open the river for our own people, they said, and it was little short of a crime to loiter when there were so many garrisons near at hand which should come into our possession.

Before the three days were passed, however, we came to understand our commander's purpose. He had not disturbed the French settlers whom we found in Kaskaskia; but, on the contrary, showed his intention of protecting them as he would those who were bound to us by ties of blood, and the result was that the people began to realize how much had been gained by this change of governors.

The savages were no longer welcome to hold their hideous pow-wows there, and the soldiers could not rob the settlers as had been done when Monsieur Rocheblave was in command. In every respect the people were the gainers by our coming, and fully appreciated the fact.

The next British outpost up the river above Kaskaskia, was Cahokia, a settlement where considerable trade was carried on, and a depository of British arms for distribution among the savages.

It had been occupied by the Caoquias, a tribe of Illinois Indians, long before the discovery of the Mississippi. The French settled there shortly after La Salle descended the river, and it was said to contain not less than forty families in addition to the garrison of about sixty soldiers.

This was the post Major Clarke had counted on capturing when he left Corn Island, and we soon came to know that he had not changed his intentions, but was busily engaged perfecting his plans at the very time when some of us accused him of spending the days in idleness.

Between these two outposts were three small villages which the king claimed as his own, and these it would be necessary to capture before arriving at the larger settlements.

When all his arrangements were completed, Major Clarke announced that Captain Joseph Bowman, the commander of one of the companies, was to lead the expedition to Cahokia, which would consist of about two hundred men, while he, Major Clarke, with the remainder of the force, was to remain at Kaskaskia, and at the same time be prepared to keep in check such of the Indians nearabout as might take into their ugly heads to make trouble for us.

Now was seen the wisdom of the major's proceedings during such time as we had remained in the captured garrison.

The inhabitants of Kaskaskia had had time to realize that they were much better off under the rule of the colonists than that of the king, and once this was brought fully home to them, they became eager that the other outposts on the river should experience the same change of government.

Therefore, instead of secretly sending scouts ahead to warn these villages through which we must pass, the people of the post begged permission to accompany the volunteers, claiming that by relating what had occurred in their own settlement they could quickly bring the others to terms, thereby preventing bloodshed, and doing a favor to their neighbors at the same time they benefited themselves.

As Simon Kenton put it: "Once they knew that the Americans were prepared to take possession of America – or such portion of it as came in their way – the one desire was that the rule of the king might be wiped out speedily, which was good sense, inasmuch as both parties could not hold portions of the river without coming to blows."

If these people whose settlements we had taken without striking a blow could have had their way, every outpost now garrisoned by men who gave allegiance to the king would be speedily in our possession, and while the temper of the people was at this point, the proper time had come to push the advantage.

When it was announced that among those who would set out under command of Captain Bowman would be the scout Kenton and his two companions, I had no misgivings.

The anguish of mind that had been mine with so little cause just before we surprised the Kaskaskia garrison had taught me a lesson, and, in addition, I believed that we would continue our march in the same bloodless, triumphant fashion as it had been begun.

And in this I was not mistaken.

Lest I draw out this story to too great length, setting down facts which strangers may think are of no importance in the history of our taking possession of the Mississippi River, I shall go straight ahead toward the end without stopping here to relate what at the time seemed to us of considerable importance, or to explain how Paul and I acted or felt under certain trying and disagreeable circumstances.

Simon Kenton was to have charge of the advance portion of the force which Captain Bowman led. That is to say, if we were speaking of such maneuvers at this day, we should say that Simon Kenton was in command of the skirmishers, and, as a matter of course, Paul Sampson and I played the part, however poorly, of his assistants.

We, and I am now speaking not only of us three who called ourselves scouts, but twelve or fifteen more who were ordered to join us, set out from Kaskaskia on the morning of the 8th of July, about two hours in advance of the main force, with the understanding that it was our duty to capture such spies as might be met, or to fall back in case we were confronted by any considerable number of savages.

Well, we began the sixty-mile tramp in good spirits, and when, late on that same day we were come within hailing distance of the first small settlement that lay on the road, our march had been no more than a pleasure excursion.

Neither spy nor Indian had we seen, and I believe that eighteen or twenty men could have taken possession of this village belonging to the king, by force of arms, had it been necessary, without any very serious trouble.

But the orders were for us to halt until the main body should come up, and this we did, whereupon those settlers from the captured post advanced to hold a parley with the occupants of this clearing.

It was not a lengthy conference. After those who had so lately recognized Monsieur Rocheblave as their governor, explained to these other settlers the advantages to be gained, the village was ours.

We had simply to walk in as honored guests, and the American flag was hoisted in token that they no longer held themselves as subjects of the king.

And the story of our successful advance thus far was the same as must be told from this point.

We marched into two other villages, our allies from Kaskaskia going ahead to pave the way, and left the settlers, while we continued on up the river, as brothers rather than enemies.

Three villages hoisted our flag in token of their sympathy with and desire to aid the colonists, and then we were come, at the close of the third day, near to Cahokia, the post, as I have said, of no mean importance, and garrisoned by sixty soldiers.

Here at least did Paul Sampson and I believe our entrance would be opposed; but as before, Captain Bowman sent our allies ahead, and we came into the trading village where the king had deposited large quantities of arms for barter with the Indians, having met with no opposition, and being received right generously.

The people greeted us with huzzas when we marched into the stockade, behind our allies, and were equally as enthusiastic on being told by Captain Bowman that they must take the oath of allegiance to the colony of Virginia.

The purpose for which our force had left Corn Island was accomplished in the capture of Cahokia, for this post was really the last which Major Clarke had claimed it might be possible to reduce.

It is true he had mentioned Vincennes in his plans to the authorities of Virginia; but, as we understood from Simon Kenton while we laid here at Cahokia, the garrison on the Wabash River was not to be attacked unless it might be done with reasonable assurance of success.

Now this outpost of Vincennes was one of the first settlements formed in the valley of the Mississippi. It was occupied by the French emigrants as early as 1735, and called post St. Vincent. In 1745, the name of Vincennes was given to it in honor of F. M. de Vincennes, a gallant and much respected French officer who was killed in the battle with the Chickasaws in 1736.

It was the most important post in the valley, but whether it was to be attacked, we who were at Cahokia could not even so much as guess.

Simon Kenton believed our portion of the work would end here, arguing that Major Clarke must leave a garrison both at Kaskaskia and Cahokia in order to hold the stockades, and by so doing his little army would be greatly weakened; so that he could hardly hope for a victory if it chanced that we were obliged to resort to force in order to gain possession.

"Accordin' to my way of thinkin', lads, our work is done," the scout said, late on that night after we took possession of Cahokia. "There's naught left us to do save retrace our steps, for I should guess that you were not minded to remain in either of these settlements as members of the garrison."

"Indeed we are not," I replied promptly. "My mother awaits me at Corn Island, and unless she decides to go back to the land which my father cleared, I must set about making a home for her."

"I have no wish to remain," Paul added. "It may not be that my father needs me; but I have a mother in Maryland, and service in a garrison is not pleasing. If, as you believe, the work laid out for Major Clarke has been accomplished, Louis Nelson and I will return with you, if it so be you are going back."

"Indeed I am, my boy," Simon Kenton replied with the air of one who anticipates much pleasure in the future. "Now that there is no longer a shadow over me, I am as eager to find my father and my mother as are you lads to meet yours."

"When shall we return?" I asked, for now that the homeward journey was being considered, I, who really had no home, was eager to begin it.

"It was understood between Major Clarke and myself that I might be at liberty to turn back whenever Captain Bowman should state he no longer required my services, and I reckon, lads, that the time has come. Wait you here until I learn what he has to say regardin' the matter."

Within an hour it was decided that we three were to carry Captain Bowman's report to Major Clarke, and when I lay down to sleep that night it was with the knowledge that at the first light of dawn we would begin the sixty-mile journey, counting on making it within four-and-twenty hours with but little labor, since from this point we could proceed in a canoe, aided by the swiftly running current.

We set out as had been decided upon, one of the settlers in Cahokia willingly lending us a dugout, with the understanding that we should leave it at Kaskaskia to be returned whenever opportunity offered, and before midnight Simon Kenton was giving to Major Clarke the account of our successes.

We remained three days longer at this post; but all that happened which concerned us three may be told in few words.

It was decided that all save those who chose to remain to man the garrisons might return whenever it pleased them, and, knowing that fifty or more who had left relatives on Corn Island were counting on going back soon, we three waited for them in order that our force might be so large as to deter the savages who were possibly lurking about the banks of the Ohio River, from making an attack.

When three days had passed, however, we found that none of the men were disposed to begin quite so soon what would doubtless prove an arduous undertaking, and Simon Kenton laid the matter before us by saying:

"Lads, I am eager to get back into Fauquier County. If it so be you have no stomach for layin' around here eatin' the bread of idleness suppose we start to-morrow mornin'? There is nothin' to keep us, and much to incline our hearts toward the journey."

Unless I have utterly failed in making it appear here that I had a great affection for my mother, it can readily be understood how we answered the scout, and without delay we set about the few necessary preparations for the voyage, determined to leave Kaskaskia before daylight next morning.

And now at this point let me copy what I read many years later regarding Vincennes:

"The stronger and more important post of Vincennes, situate on the east bank of the Wabash River, one hundred miles above its entrance into the Ohio, was yet unsubdued, and Major Clarke felt that the object of his mission would be but half accomplished if he did not gain possession of that place. It was necessary to garrison Kaskaskia and Cahokia in order to retain them, and to do this would so weaken his little army that he could, scarcely hope for victory in an attack upon Vincennes, unless he should be as successful in effecting a surprise as he had in capturing the posts already in his possession. While thus perplexed and doubting which course to pursue, he communicated his desires to Father Gabault, a French priest, who agreed to bring those inhabitants of Vincennes over whom he had pastoral charge, to the support of the American cause. The influence of the priest was successful; the inhabitants arose in the night and cast off their allegiance to the British, expelled the garrison from the fort, and pulled down the English standard. The American flag floated in triumph over the ramparts in the morning."

All this was done before we three were come again to Corn Island, and I question if the British king ever lost more territory at a less cost in blood, either on the part of those who made the capture or the hirelings who should have held the garrisons, than in this expedition of Major Clarke's into the valley of Mississippi.

I am now come to be an old man, and yet since that time have heard but little spoken concerning the achievements of Major Clarke and his force of four hundred, when the most fertile portion of the Mississippi River was taken from the Britishers and made a portion of the American colonies.

We had done our work well, as it seemed to me then and does now, although in the telling of it there is none of that clash of arms and cheers of triumph which have accompanied far smaller achievements.

And here would my story properly end but for the fact that we three must make the journey down the Mississippi to the Ohio, following the course of this last noble river on foot, because we could not well stem the current in a canoe, through a country infested by savage enemies, who would use every effort to take our lives.

CHAPTER XI.
HOMEWARD BOUND

We spent no time in leave-taking after once having made ready for the journey. It was as if we three formed a separate command, and had no comrades among the main body of the volunteers, therefore it was not necessary we should say good-by.

Simon Kenton was to carry up the Ohio certain papers with which Major Clarke had entrusted him, and once these were in his possession there was nothing to detain us at Kaskaskia.

We took our departure from the post a full half hour before daybreak, when none save the sentinels were there to see us push off from the shore, and allowed the canoe to drift down the river until we were come to the Ohio.

It would be more laborious to paddle the dugout against the swift current than to walk, and we had already decided to make our way through the wilderness on foot, ever keeping within a short distance of the river, where we might expect to get the earliest information if the savages were moving about bent on mischief.

We came to a halt at a point where we waited for the flat-boats on the journey down, and here a day was spent in procuring and cooking meat, for Simon Kenton had decided that once the long tramp was really begun we would push forward at the best possible pace. It was reasonable to believe that in a short time we would have arrived at that portion of the country where it might not be well to discharge a rifle simply for the purpose of killing game.

We did not expect to make the journey without some danger of coming across small parties of the painted brutes who thirsted for the blood of white people; but it was not in our thoughts that we should encounter any serious dangers. The worst of the tramp, so we believed, might be the labor of pushing on through the underbrush until the many miles which lay between us and Corn Island had been traversed.

Simon Kenton was in particularly good humor on that morning when, all our preparations completed, we left the camping place with our faces turned toward the north, and I was exceedingly happy, for at the end of the journey my mother was waiting to greet me.

During two full days we pressed steadily onward, seeing nothing to cause alarm, and making reasonably good progress, and then came that which threatened a fatal ending to what had been a most successful journey.

We encamped on the second night in a small thicket of scrub where the foliage was so dense that the chill night wind was shut out as completely as if we had been within four walls of stout logs, and felt so secure that Simon Kenton himself had proposed we build a light blaze to cook a turkey we had just killed.

The meat was roasted, and we ate such a supper as can be enjoyed only by those who have performed a full day's labor, and after the meal was come to an end Paul and I fell asleep even as we sat before the fire.

How long we were thus unconscious I am unable to say; but it seemed to me as if I had no more than crossed the borders of dreamland before I was awakened by the pressure of a heavy hand over my mouth.

In the forest one becomes accustomed to awakening quickly, and without starting up.

When the eyes are open the first thought is as to the reason for thus being aroused, and due heed is given to all the surroundings before any movement is made.

Therefore it was I understood at once that Simon Kenton's hand was covering my mouth, and that he was hurriedly burying the light embers with ashes.

Pressing his arm to let him know I was thoroughly aroused, I rose to a sitting posture.

No sound brake the stillness of the night, for, sheltered as we were by the scrub, even the moaning of the wind failed to reach our ears.

Kenton was awakening Paul, and he, brave lad, made as little disturbance on thus being aroused as if all his life had been spent on the frontier.

It was to my mind a certainty that the scout had heard or seen savages, and I drew up my rifle to assure myself it was in proper working order.

It is by no means soothing to the nerves to be thus aroused and forced to remain on the alert in ignorance of what threatens. I know of no situation more trying, and while I inwardly trembled with apprehension, my eyes sought out Paul in the gloom to learn how he was bearing up under what many old, experienced hunters have told me was, in their opinion, the most trying of all border warfare.

The lad sat silent and motionless, his rifle in hand, and though it was impossible to distinguish his features, I knew full well he was as calm and placid as when we remained concealed in the thicket just beyond the stockade at Kaskaskia, when I believed a desperate battle was before us.

During perhaps half an hour we three remained in the same position as when first having been awakened, and then Simon Kenton began to creep cautiously out through the underbrush, having first motioned for us to remain quiet.

He was bent on learning what had alarmed him, and but for advertising myself as a coward, I would have insisted, as well as I might by gestures, upon his remaining with us, for to me, almost anything was preferable to separation.

I checked the impulse, however, but moved closer to Paul, and he, dear lad, pressed my hand as if to give me courage.

That he, whom I had at the outset considered the weakest of the party, should be the one to encourage, shamed me, and I threw off his hand as if in anger, when in reality it was nothing save nervous fear which prompted the movement.

As nearly as I could judge, Simon Kenton had been absent ten minutes before we heard anything whatsoever, and then the report of a musket, followed by a scream of pain, caused the blood to bound in my veins.

Instinctively I leaped to my feet when I should have remained motionless, and Paul laid hold of the skirt of my hunting-shirt as if fearing I might be counting on rushing out.

One, two, three minutes passed, during which time the most absolute silence reigned, and then a slight rustling of the branches told that the scout was returning.

I breathed more freely, knowing he was not the one who had given vent to that cry of pain, and stepped forward to learn how serious was the danger which threatened.

"We have run across thirty or more reptiles – most likely the same that were met while coming down the river," he whispered in my ear as I bent forward eager for information.

"Why did you fire?" I asked, believing for the moment that by such act he had told them where we lay concealed.

"They had learned where we were, and now completely surround us. It's a case of fightin' our way out, lad, if we count on gainin' Corn Island. It is better to make a move at once, than wait till they are ready to close in on us."

I understood by these words that Kenton believed the situation to be most dangerous, otherwise he would not have suggested we make a move in the night when the savages would have a great advantage over us, and, as usual in such cases, my heart grew cowardly once more.

While I stood there undecided the scout hurriedly repeated to Paul that which he had told me, and I saw the lad rise to his feet without hesitation. He was even then, as he has since many times proven himself, my superior in all that goes to make up a frontiersman.

"Follow me," Kenton whispered, "and when you are forced to fire, see to it there be no delay in re-loadin' your rifle. Accordin' to my way of thinkin' we'll have to fight ourselves through this gang, an' the more we disable 'twixt now an' night the easier will be our work to-morrow."

There was in my mind the thought that we were now where we must keep up a running fight until one party or the other was shot down, and, considering the fact that they outnumbered us at least ten to one, it seemed most likely ours would be the side that went under.

When danger comes close upon me I forget my cowardice, as a rule, and so it was now. There seemed little chance we could fight our way through where were so many to oppose us, and the odds were all in favor of the savages.

Realizing this fully, as I believe Simon Kenton did also, I ceased to think of the cause I had for fear, but set my teeth hard, resolving to give the painted wolves good reason to remember me after they had shot us down.

Simon Kenton was not disposed to linger; he understood of what advantage in a fight is the first blow, and was eager to deal it.

He waited only long enough to assure himself we two lads were ready for the hot work before us, and then turned to leave the hiding-place which, as he had said, was already surrounded.

Paul would have brought up the rear, but that I held the position as belonging to me. Surely a lad who had always lived in towns could not reasonably expect to be allowed such a post of danger when there were others with a right to claim it.

That the savages were keeping a keen watch we knew instantly Simon Kenton stepped outside the dense thicket, for then came the report of a rifle, and a bullet whistled past my head so near that I could feel the "wind" of its flight.

It was a queer act, when the darkness was so intense that one could not distinguish an object twenty paces away, yet instinctively we three darted behind the nearest trees for shelter, and there stood straining our eyes in the hope of being able to discover a living target.

It was like looking into a deep well, to peer ahead, and all three of us must have understood at the same instant that it was little less than folly to remain there with any hope of sending a bullet home, for Paul had just turned to continue the flight when Simon Kenton whispered to me:

"We cannot benefit ourselves by remainin' here. The best plan is to continue on up river, makin' as many miles as possible before daylight."

Having said this he darted forward, forcing Paul to fall into line behind him, and I came close at the latter's heels.

Now was begun the oddest fight ever seen on the Ohio River.

We three were pressing forward as if it would advantage us much to gain a few extra miles before morning, and the savages followed cautiously, firing at random now and then, although they could not hope a single bullet would take effect.

Several times we halted in the hope that the reptiles, thinking only of overtaking us, might come up within shooting distance; but they were too wary to be caught by any trick of that kind.

Whenever we came to a full stop it was as if all nature ceased breathing, for we could not hear the lightest whisper amid the foliage, and when the flight had continued in such fashion for an hour or more, Simon Kenton said as we stood side by side listening intently for some token of the villains:

"We won't get a fair shot at them until daylight, an' then they'll have the same chance at us. I reckon we'd better make all the distance we can while it is dark, an' then lay by when the sun rises."

To my mind it could benefit us but little if we approached a few miles nearer our destination, for unless these wretches could be beaten back within a reasonably short time, they would succeed in killing us before we could come within fifty miles of the point we most desired to gain.

However, while holding death at bay for a few hours more or less we might as well have our faces turned in the right direction, and I was ready to do whatsoever the scout suggested, for, as I have said, fear had fled from me now that our position was so desperate.

We alternately drove ahead at full speed, and stopped to take breath. The Indians fired at random now and then, hoping that the sound of our footsteps might serve as guide; but they inflicted no more injury on us by shooting, than we did on them while we refrained from discharging our weapons.