Philip Seymour : or, Pioneer life in Richland county, Ohio ; founded on facts

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PS 2359.M115P5 1908

Philip Seymour :or. Pioneer life in Rich

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PHILIP SEYMOUR,

OR

"Pioneer Life in l^icl]lG\nel
<Bo\inty, Gl|io.

FOUNDED ON FACTS.

By rev. JAMES F. M'GAW,

AUTHOR OF "THE IMPRESSED SEAMAN."

MANSFIELD :

PUBLISHED BY r/eRICKERHOPF,-

HERALD STEAM PRESS PRINT.

i (-1858 !

(Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857, by Brink-
I erhoff & Day, in tfie Clerk's Office of the District Court of the
JJnited States for the Northern District, of Ohip.)

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INTRODUCTION.

. The j^ear 1812 constituted an important crisis in
the history of Ohio. The war of 'this period, opened
to emigration atid enterprise, the great area west of
the AUeghenies. The armies sent out to battle with
Indians and other foes, on the banks of the Wabash,
the Illinois, the Detroit, the Raisin, the Miami of the
Lakes, and other rivers, opened for observation,
attractive scenes for settlement. ' ,

Ohio particularly, at this period, was looked upon
as the garden of the West. Prior to the war but few
settlements had been made in the North- Western
region; but as soon as peace was made, a continual
tide of emigration was seen moving^ eastward.

At the period of the opening of our narrative, the
territory now comprised in Richland, Ashland, and
Morrow counties, was almost an unbroken wilder-
ness. The present thriving City of- Mansfield then
contained only two or three cabins and a couple of
block houses, which were erected in the 'month of
September of this year. -There was also a cabin on
the BarkdoU farm, and a block house, at Beam's
(now Campbell's) mill. There, were a few farms
opened along the Black Fork, and a few at Lexing-
ton, and along the Clear Fork. Supplies of pro-
visions, etc., were all packed from Mt. Vernon, Knox
county, on horseback, a feat attended with no little
danger, as the wilderness then was tenanted by In-
dians and wild beasts.

The Indian tribes holding possession, of Ohio at
this' time, were the Shawnees, WyaMots, Miamis,

, INTKODUCTION.

PinkasliawS, Delawares, Eries, Winnebagoes, and
some portions of the Six Nations. The Shawnees
are, said to be the oldest inhabitants of this State.

Among the tribes which inhabited this region of
Ohio were the Delawres and Wyandots. A settle:
ment of Delawares existed at .GreentoWn, on the
Black Fork, and one at Jeromeville, now in Ashland
county. These Indians professed friendship for the
whites, and up till 1812 they had lived amicably with
them.

Among the Indian chiefs friendly to the American
cause, was Captain Pipe of Peromeville, who previ-
ous to the treaty of Greenville in 1795, was the most
inveterate enemy of the whites.

Tecumseh- and his brother, the Prophet, were the
leading spirits of those arrayed against the white
settlements; and thrdugh their influence many a
cheerful cabin hearth was made desolate.

PHILIP SEYMOUR,

OR

PIONEER LIFE IN RICHLAND COUNTY

CHAPTER I.

ADVENTURE OF PHILIP SEYMOUE WITH KAiSTOTOHE AND
THE BEAE.

The sun had just risen, and was pouring his flood
of light upon hill- top and valley, 'as Philip Seymour,
a young and gallant backwo.odSman, started from
his cabin upon the banks of the Black Fork, in search
of game. A lovelier morning never opened upon the
earth. A pleasant and refreshing breeze 'swept
gently through the forest, while the golden, mellow
rays of the rising sun fell softly upon the variegated
landscape, mantling it with that dreamy beauty,
which in a poetic mind awakens those sweet fancies
that fill the soul with holy inspiration. A heavy
dew had fallen during the night, and each tiny dro^,
as it hung pendant on flower and shrub, sparkled
in the morning sunbeams, • like a glittering jewel.
; Overhead gay plumaged songsters flitted from
branch to branch, pQliring forth their morning
songs; and the wild bee basked in the sunlight, now
sipping the nectar from the flowers, and now alight-
ing upon some pendant leaf to pick a dainty morsel.

PIONEER LIFE.

Every object around the young hunter was filled
with beauty, and inspired his soul with the most
pleasing emotions, and every sound that fell upon
his ear was filled with divinest, sweetest melody.

Philip was one of the most powerful and athletic
men of his day. None ventured to cope with him
in wrestling, or in other feats of strength. — ^His
countenance was radiant with the genial smiles of
a warm and generous heart, wMle "his bright eye
flashed with the impulse of a noble and manly cour-
age. He was the only son, the joy and pride of his
parents, who bestowed every care their ,means af-
forded upon his moral and intellectual culture. His
parents were old ar^d infirm, and the duty of sup-
porting them in their declining years devolving upon
him, he became of necessity a hunter, and dearly
di(i he love this wild and exciting life. His rifle
was his constant companion, and he was never more
delighted than when in the pursuit of game.

But the Indians, though apparently friendly , were
dangerous and troublesome companions. Philip had
read much of their manners, morals, and peculiar
characteristics, and his personal observation had
Inspired him with a deep hatred of- the whole race.
Tn fact he looked upon them as a low, brutal and
degraded people, their prominent characteristic be-
ing; that of treachery.

Whilstling for his dog he directed his steps to-
*vards a dark and dismal looking swamp, which lay
some few miles north of his residence. He had
heard that this was the re|;reat of the wild beasts
which were yet remaining in the wilderness. On
nearing the pdge of the swamp, he secreted him-
self behind the trunk of a huge forest tree which
che gig.nt tread of the infuriated winds had uprooted.
Philip had remained in this position but a few
moments, when his attention was arrested by a
rustling noise among the thick bushes of the swamp.
Tn a few moments the bushe^ parted, and a huge

PIONEBK LIFE. i)

black bear came peering through. Philip,, resting
his ,riflle upon a log,, fired, and the nionster fell,
quivering in the agonies of death. Almost instantly
with the, discharge of Philip's rifle, rang the sharp
crack of another through the forest, the ball of
which struck the tree a few inches below where
Philip's rifl,e rested. At tliis sudden and unlooked
for report, Philip started to his feet, and looking in
the direction fromVhich the sound proceeded, dis-
covered a savage, about one hundred yards from
him in an opposite direction across the swamp, on a
small elevation, which for some distance overlooks
the swamp.

Philip on seeing the savage sprang behind a tree,
and re-loaded with the utmost speed. The Indian
on seeing him thus preparing for an encounter with
him, threw doWn his rifle and tomahawk, and hold-
ing up his hands, ran towards him with as much
haste as possible, exclaiming, apparently much
frightened — ' ' Me no shoot you ! me no shoot at
you ! me no kill you ! " ^

Philip lowered his rifle, and the Indian coming
up, -with earnest gesticulations, reiterated — "Sle
sorry — ^me no hurt you — ^me like you — me likes all
white face — Indian and pale face friends — hunt the
deer together — live in same wigwam."

TJiis Indian's name was Kanotche, and was known
to the Seymour family, having often been at Philip 's
cabin.

"Kanotche lies!" said Philip, eyeing him sternly,
"Kanotche would kill the white man. He would
shoot him unawares, like a coward." Kanotche
writhed and could not endure the gaze of Philip.
He, however, protested his innocence of evil intent,
saying:

"Kanotche shoot at bear. Kanotche see no white
man" — aijd to pi'ove his sincerity tendei'ed his as-
sistance in securing Philip's prize. Philip, pretend-
ing that his suspicions were removed, accepted it.

IQ < PIONEER LIFE.

and such portions of the bear as were of value were
conveyed to Philip's cabin. A good supper was pre-'
pared for Kanotche by Kate, Philip 's sister, and the
Indian departed.

Kate Seymour was an only daughter, — a rosy-
cheeked, bright-eyed lass, just eighteen, of a gay,
-laughing disposition, whose glaijces were incendi-
aries, dangerous to the peace of, the gallant swains
who came within their range. ' /

. After the departure of the Indian, Phillip nar-
rated the adventures of the day. ' ' I tell you, Kate, ' '
said he, in a lively tone, ' ' Old Kanotche was a good
medicine for bad blood about that time, he started
the circulation a little more lively than I ever felt
before. "

"Ah, but Phil, I'm afraid he meant you no good.
I don't believe it was a mistake."

"Neither do I," said Mrs. Seymour. I do wish,
Mr. Seymour, you woilld take us all up to Mansfield
till the war is over. Those Indians are so treach-
erous, I don't feel safe.

"l^ooh! pooh! mother," said Mr. Seymour, "don't
be scared at nothing. Kanotche is a good friend
of our family, and wouldn't hurt Phil for the world,
you may depend on it."

"Well, I'm glad if it was a mistake," said Philip,
"that chance knew where to direct his .bullet better
than he did. Indians don't often shoot in mistake."

"What would have become of us," said Kate tear-"
fully, "if you had been shot? How thankful I am
you are"" safe."

"Oh Harry would take my place, you know. —
.you would not miss me." And Philip looked at
Kate roguishly, and she blushing, jumped )ip and
playfully boxed his ears. Philip dodged, and they
were just getting into one of their pleasant frolics
when the door opened, and before the astonished
family stood a young emigrant to Ohio.

CHAPTER II.

HENRY MONROE— ADVENTURE WITH INDIANS— JOHNNY
APPLESBED.

' ' Stretched on the ground beneath the spacious sky,
Soft dreamy slumber closed his watchful eye."

"Why, Henry,!"

"Well, I declare!"

"Why, what have we got there?"

"Hallo, Hank, is that you I Why how do you do?
Where did you rain down from!"

Such were the exclamations with which the fam-
ily, starting to theit fete, rushed to greet Henry.
And now it is time for the reader to know who
Henry is.

Henry Monroe was a young Pennsylvanian from
the same neighborhood whence the Seymours had
come. Many a day' he had swung Kate upon the
grape-vine swing, near the school house, and many
an impudent lad he had punished for presuming to
claim any of Kate's attentions. -Thus they grew
up together ; of her he dreamed day and night, and
when Kate's parents moved to Ohio, he of all others
suffered most at parting. Nor was this regard un-
repaid, for Kate actually thought him the bra.vest
and handsomest boy in scjiool, except Philip. Since
the removal of the Seymours to Ohio,, Henry had
summoned courage sufficient to write a letter to
Philip, but somehow or other it was all to or about
Kate, so that Philip threw it into her lap and said,.
"There Kate, I did not mean to open your letter^
but Hank niisdirected it ! " And of course, as Philip
would not answer it, common politeness required
Kate to write and say something in reply, and sO'

12 , PIONEEK LIFE.

Henry thought he must answer Kate's kind letter,
and thus letters had passed for some months, until
Henry thought it took too much writing to say so
little, and so one day he packed his knapsack,,
strapped it on his back and started for Ohio, with
•enough money to enter a quarter of land. Ohio was
a very undefinable place and people thought that if
you struck it anywhere you were right in the neigh-
borhood of your friends, though they might be 200
miles off! So Henry, instead of steering directly
West, pushed for Zanesville, and he supposed he
would have but a day's tramp to -Mansfield and
thence to Kate's, as her place must adjoin the town
somewhere! — He followed up the Muskingum until
he came to the' White Woman, without company,
trusting to the declared good will of the Indians and
a good rifle for safety.

He reached the confluence of the White Woman
and the Muskingum just about night fall. He made;
a fire near a fallen tree, prepared his supper, spread
his blanket, and with his knapsack for his pillow,
sought repose for his weary limbs. There was no
moon and the deep forest shut 'out the light of the
stars. While lying thus, he heard a low call of an
owl and the next instant a stick cracked beneath
the tread of sorne animal, or other being. Eecol-
lecting' the traits of the^ Indian, it suddenly struck
him that there might, be danger approaching, at-
tracted by the light of his fire, and hastily, while
in the reclining position, drew a chunk under his,
blanket with one end resting on the knapsack surr
mounted by his hat ; he tiien rolled back under the
fallen tree, and secreted himself upon the shady
side, near the top, with rifle ready for further devei-
■opments. He had been stationed but a few moments
when he saw the heads of two Indians peering over
the bank. Presently one of them cautiously drew
himself up and examined Henry's camp. Satisfied
that there had been but one person in the camp and

PIONEER LIFE.

13:

that he was quietly sleeping, both took deliberate aim
at the supposed sleeper and fired. IJp to this instant
Henry was quite nervous, but now his nerves wiere
firm as steel, and as the Indians sprang forward
with wild w;hoops and raised tomahawks he shot the
first through the head and before the second could
recover from his astonishment he dealt him a blow
over the scalp with his clubbed rifle. The savage
staggered and fell but sprang up, and staggered to
the bank where a second blow from Henry knocked
him into a rapid current. The first experience of
life in the wilderness, most effectually drove sleep
from Henry. He strapped his knapsack and follow-
ing the Whi'te Woman according to his directions,
travelled steadily by' the trail, as he supposed, until
daylight, when to his alarm he found that he was-
lost. He had wandered away from the river, and
the trail which appeared plain enough before, he
now found to be only in his imagination. Most anxi-
ously he sought the river but found no • sign. — At the-
rising of the sun he set his face directly eastward,
as he knew he was on the west side of the river, and
travelled about two miles steadily onward. Finally,
on asceudin-g a high hill, he climbed a beech tree,
looked anxiously out and to his inexpressable joy
found that the grep-t valley could not be more than
a mile distant. He descended, and with renewed
vigour pursued his way, having carefully noted sev-
eral landmarks for his guidance.

In a few moments, to his great surprise, he-
brought up against a long brush enclosure, within
which was a nursery of thrifty young trees. He
looke/i all about for further improvements, and won ■
dered greatly at the nursery being planted there
by itself. Unable to make any discoveries he leaped
the enslocure aiid sat down by a spring which gushed
forth 'from the bank on the south side of the nurs-
ery, to drink of its sparkling waters and refresh
himself from the stores in his knapsack.

14 PIONEEK LIFE. '

"I wonder whose nursery this is," thought he.-^
^'It didn't come here by chance, that's sure. Hallo!
More Indians ? They missfed me for supper and now
they want me for breakfast." Henry dodged into
a thicket of apple trees and listened. In a moment
he ?aw an inverted tin bucket rise up over the in-
closure followed by a huge shock of black wiry hair.
After the hair came a pair of buckskin breeches ■
with a pair of shoeless feet sticking through. • A
pair of eyes, might be seen, burning black, near the
bucket; and Henry decided at once that beneath
hair and breeches somewhere was a human being,
and he crazy.

The strange creature looked, all about anxiouslyj
"Certainly I saw a man come, in here," said he to
himself. "I'll call.','
■ "Hallo, stranger?"

"Hallo!" said Henry, whose curiosity had pre-
vented his coming out of the thicket before.

"I am the »friend of , man," said the strangely ac-
countred being. •

"And I am a man who would like to see a friend
just now, for I believe I'm lost, as sure as you are
born. But who ar§ you, 'and what are you doing
here?"

"My name is Chapman, and this is my nursery. —
People call me Johnny Appleseed, because of my
business. But how are you lost, and where are you
going?"

"I am on my way from Zanesville to Mansfield.
Had breakfast?"

"Not yet," ^aid Johnny, removing his tin bucket
from his head.

"Nor I. Suppose we have a bite, I have traveled
all night, came pretty near getting- devoured by In-
dians, and I am mighty hungry."

Johnny eyes him anxiously as he spoke of .the
Indians, but made no inquiries until having struck a
fire, he heated some water, threw in some brown

PIONEER LIFE. 15

rye, and then drawing forth some cold meat and
bread from a pouch that he carried, sat down with
Henry who contributed from the stores in his knap-
sack for his share of the meal with him.

Jphnny's countenance was troubled. Henry's ad-
venture ' with the Indians seemed to add to fears
already kindled by some previous calamity. Finally
recalling his thoughts he turned to his new com-
panion and said :

- "So you are ^oing to Mansfield, are you? Going
to settle,?" ^

"I don't know whether I will or not, I have ac-
quaintances there."

' ' Have you ? " I know everybody there. Who are
they?"

"The Seymour family."

"The" Seymour family! Why they ain't in Mans-
field, they're bn the Black Fork, I know them well,
and left them only last week."

' ' Did you ? ' ' asid Henry, and his pulse beat quick,
for he wanted to ask after Kate, and yet he dared
not. "Were they all well?"

"Yes, but I am afraid they are too far out from
the block houses. There is trouble brewing among
the Indians, they have been so heartlessly cheated
and abused by the whites that a spirit of revenge
has seized upon them and this spirit is industriously
fostered by the British. Come, if you want, to go
to Seymours,' I will go with you and put them on
th'eir guard, for I had news yesterday which bodes
them no good." ,

Henry gladly availed himself of his escort. Fol-
lowing up the streams until they came to the Black
Fork they arived at the Seymours ' without advent-
ure, just at night fall.

"Stand back, my friend," said Henry, "let me
pass in first and see if they will recognize me;. and
without knocking Henry opened the door.

The feelings of the Seymours may be better imag-

16

PIONEEK LIFE.

ined then described; especially Kate, who could not
control her bounding heart and cause it to "down"
at her biding, and throwing herself into the arms of
Henry — that's enough, let her be.

Johnny Appleseed figited around outside happy
at the happiness within, and looking for the moment
to come when he could step in with propriety and
enjoy the greetings with them.

Finally Henry saying that he did not come alone
opened the door and Johnny to whom the Seymours
were strongly attached came in.

CHAPTEE III.

BIOGEAPHrCAL SKETCH OP JOHJTNY APPLESEED.

As Johnny Appleseed was a very remarkable per-
sonage, identified with the early history of Richland,
and as he played an important part during the war
of 1812, it is proper that before we proceed farther
that we should sketch him, that , our readers may
know his character and his ' peculiarities and the
more fully understand the allusions in our narrative.

Johnny Appleseed made his appearance among
the Pioneers of Richland County at a very early
period. His real name was Jonathan Chapman, but
he was commonly known by the name of Appleseed.
He received this sobriquet from the circumstances
of his rearing and cultivating appletrees from the
seed, which he sowed in differnt localities.

In connection with the appletree business, he em-
ployed much of his time in sowing the seeds of dif-
ferent medical herbs, in such localities as were desti-
tute of them. His main object was to equalize the
distribution of these heVbs, so that every locality
would be supplied with a variety— dog-fennel, penny-
royal, catnip, hoarhound, muUin, rattle-root, and in
fact, every other plant which he supposed to be me-
dicinal.

Religiously considered, Johnny was a rigid Swe-
denborgian. He maintained the doctrine that a
spiritual intercourse could be held with the departed
dead, having himself had frequent conversation with
the inhabitants of the spirit land, two of which (of
the feminine gender) had revealed to him the con-
doling news that they were to be his wives in a
'future state, provided he would keep himself from

18 , PIONEER LIFE.

a matriiiioiiial alliance, while on earth. He vowed
celibacy, and never could be prevailed npon to pay
any amorous attention to the female sex. Johnny
possessed a kind, good heart, which made him a
welcome visitor among the wliites and Indians, the
latter never molesting him, but regarded him with
a kind of superstitious veneration. His personal,
appearance was very singular and remarkable^ being
a small, heavy set or chunky man, qiiick in conver-
sation and restless in his motions. JEis eyes were
dark and sparkling, and his hair and beard were per-
mitted to attain their greatest length, never per-
mitting them to be cut off. His clothing was gener-
ally half worn out before he obtained it, having re-
ceived it in exchange for apple trees. Johnny
scarcely ever wore any other covering oh his head
than nature furnished him with, and he mostly went
barefooted; even in winter; and generally slept in
the woods.

Such is a brief outline of the history of this singu-
lar personage, who first made his appearance in
Western Pennsylvania, and thence into Ohio. Johnny
left the county of Eichland about twenty years ago,
in order to find a more extended sphere of useful-
ness. But he did not long survive after he left. He
died as he lived, a blameless, moral man.

Johnny Appleseed made it his business to visit
every settlement and every settler over whom, as he
thought. Divine Providence had made him protector.
He was a missionary, sent into the wilderness to
preach to the people, and heal all. manner of dis-
eases, and to warn the settlers of any impending'
danger,, of which he was. made acquainted by spir-
itual revelation.

Johnny had been at Mt. Seymour's before and
had formed quite an attachment to the family. His
frequent visits to the house, had induced Philip to
indulge in some pleasantries respecting "him and
Kate. Johnny had endeavored to instil into the

PIONEER LIFE. 19

minds of the family the doctrines of Swedenbor-
gianism, and on 'these occasions Kate was sometimes
made the object of his appeals.. Philip taking the
advantage of these, would at every opportunity, in-
dulge in some pleasant jokes at Kate's expense.

"Good evening, Mr. Chapman," exclaimed Philip
as Johnny opened the door. "We are right down
glad to see you once more, particularly Kate, who
has had some fears that the red skins had taken
your scalp. ' '

"God bless the dear gin," said Johnny, turning
his eyes upon Kate, "don't give yourself the' least
uneasiness about me, there's not an Indian in all
this vast wilderness who will lay a violent hand upon
me."

>

Philip's laughing eyes fell upon Kate, at the same
instant with Johnny's, while the abashed girl hung
down her head in silence.

"But," said Philip, addressing himself to Johnny,

' in order to relieve Kate from any further remark

from him, "a,re you in league with old Satan that

you speak thus confidently, or what evidence have

you, that these wild savages will not molest you ? ' '

"As to your first question," replied Johnny, "I
would inform you, that although I hold communion
with spirits, that of Satan does not enter into the
number of my corespondents; and as to your sec-
ond interrogation, I would say, the evidence upon
which I found my hope of safety in their hands, is an
implicit confidence in the Creator, and the acting out
of the golden rule or law of love, 'Do unto others
as you would have others do unto you.' "

"All this," replied Philip, "may be well enough,
but to tell you the truth, Johnny, I have more con-
fidence in my rifle, among such vermin as infest this
wilderness, A than all the 'golden rules' in this uni-
<^erse. ' '

"Ah! young man, in this you are mistaken," re-
plied Johnny, "there is a power of kindness — in re-

20 PIONEER LIFE.

i

turning goad for evil, which is more ^effective in sub-
duing the evil propensities of a savage nature than
in all the weapons of warfare under the sun. ' '

' ' I accord honesty, Johnny, to your convictions of
right and wrong," said Philip, "but cannot see the
subject in this light. True human nature is" the same
in all men, modified only by the force of circum-
stances. What one inan conceives to be right an-
other may concieve to be wrong; but I do not wish
to push the argument any further. ' '

"As you please," answered Johnny, "but have
you ever investigated the doctrines of Emanuel Swe-
denborg?"

"I -believe not," replied Philip, "nor can I say
that I have any particular inclination to do so,
though I offer no objections against the man, his
doctrines or his followers. I allow every man the
right to think on the subject of religion for himself.'
You perceive, Johnny, I am not in a spiritual mood
to-night; my mind runs upon Indians, more than
angels, a good deal."

"How so," said Johnny, looking inquiringly at
Philip; "has any thing happened to turn your
thoughts to the red men ? "

"No, nothing of importance, only that red devil,
Kanotche, came very near shooting me to-day."

"Shooting yoti," said Henry. "The rascals must
be troublesome about here. ' '

' ' Not very ; it was probably a mistake ; Kanotche
shot at abear, so he says."

Philip then related to Henry and Johnny Apple-
seed the circunlstanees which we have detailed in a
previous chapter.

Johnny listened attentively to the narrative, and
when he had concluded, remarked to Mr. Seymour,
that it might be well to remove the family to the
block house for a few days, and related some cir-
cumstances in addition, which induced him to think

PIONEER LIFE. 21

that the savages were not as friendly as they had
been.

The old gentleman however contended that there
was no danger. The Indians, and especially Ka-
notche, had always been friendly, and he could see no
reason why they should change their feelings. "It
will do no harm to spend a short time at the block
house," said Henry (whose recollection of his own
adventure the previous night was still vivid in his
mind, although he kept it to himself for fear of ex-
citing the family) "it is evident the Indians medi-
tate something, whether mischief to the whites or
not remains' to be seen."

"Well, well," said the old man, "we will keep a
good look out, and see what turns up ; at present let 's
change the subject. How did you leave the old folks?
— and the old gentleman launched off into a series of
inquiries in regard to Henry's family and friends in
Pennsylvania.

In this way an hour or two passed away in pleas-
ant chat, when the family separated for the night.
Anxious thoughts, however, filled the minds of the
young men as they retired to their room together
and talked over the events of the day previous. Hen-
ry related to Philip his adventure with the Indians
and cautioned him to be on his guard.-

' ' The devils need watching, ' ' said Philip, ' ' I never
did have any confidence in them, and I have seen no
reason to change my opinion yet. I will take a scbut
in the morning and see if I can discover anything.
Uh! how the wolves howl to-night — that's the kind
of serenade we get in this country, Hanli. How do
you like it?" i

But Henry was asleep, dreaming of Kate and a
rosy future.

"Well, Hank's tired, and so am I," said Philip,
and followed his friend into Dreamland.

CHAPTER IV.

DEPABTTJEE OF HENEY MONEOE— ADVENTUEE WITH
WITH EUPFNEE.

"He sat* alone,
And silentj on a fallen tree,
And gazed upon , -

The waters gliding by."

For several days subsequent to the events narrated
in the previous chapter, Philip Seymour made it his
business to traverse the country for miles around for'
the purpose of ascertaining the disposition of the
Indians and the probabilities of their making an at-
tack upon the settlements; but so far as he could
learn, all danger had disappeared, and Philip began
to flatter himself that his fears had been groundless,
and that he had in fact entirely misinterpreted the
occurrences which had previously excited his sus-
picions.
. Henry Monroe in the meantime had made a for-
mal proffer of his heart and hand to the gentle
Kate, and Was now an accepted lover. The time for
the wedding was appointed, and Henry having made
a purchase of a quarter of land, on the Black Fork,
a short distance below the Seymours', whereupon
to settle with his bride, returned to his friends in
Pennsylvania, in order to make his ararngements
for a final emigration to his new home in the wiU
derness.

On the day following the departure of Henry,
Philip, anxious for another adventure in the woods,
and feeling lonesome in the absence of his frieiid,
took up his rifle, and biding the family good morn-

PIONEER LIFE. ' 23

ing, sallied ,out into the wilderness just as the sun
was appearing in all its golden glory.

For hours Philip wandered through the forest
without finding any object worthy of his attention.

There was an abundance of inferior game in the
woods, but this did not come within the purview of
this day's adventure. He wished to have another
encounter with a bear, wolf, or wild cat, but could
uQt get a glimpse of any of these.

Somewhat fatigued and weary, Philip at length
sat himself down upon the green banks of the mur-
muring stream that flowed through the forest, and
for a while sat gazing in a dreamy listlessness upon
the wild scene around him. In a short time his eye-
'lids grew heavy, and he fell into a sound sleep, from
which he did not awaken till the sun had sunk be-
hind the western hills. Jumping to his feet, he was
about starting home when the crackling of brush
and the rustling of bushes, some distance below
him, caught his attention. Another bear, he men-
tally exclaimed, and examining his rifle found all
right, then quietly stepping behind a large oak, pre-
pared to discharge his rifle, as soon as the animal
made its appearance.

The shades of evening had gathered over the for-
est, and the thick underbrush conspired in a great
measure to shut out the light of day. This made
Philip the more cautious in awaiting a fair oppor-
tunity to discharge his rifle. Nearer came the ad-
vancing footsteps, until at last the full form of a
man emerged from the deep thicket into the little
opening. In a moment Philip discovered to his in-
finite delight, the person to be none other than his
friend and companion of the forest, Martin Etiffner,
and springing from behind the tree, in an unthought-
ful manner, had just prbnounced the word, "by
— - — ," when crack went Euffner's rifle, and the
young man sprang into the air, exclaiming, "Oh
God!. Ruff ner, I am shot." In a moment Euffner

24

PIONEEE LIFE.

recognized his fritend, and running up to him found
that the ball had done him no serious damage, hav-
ing merely grazed his body. P|hilip soon recovered
from his fright, and the two friends congratulated
each other in their escape.

Philip requested Euffner to accompany him home,
which was readily complied with, as he was just
on his way to the cabin of Mr. Seymour in order
to communicate to the family his fears as to their
safety in their present defenseless condition.

CHAPTER V.

MARTIN ETJFFNER. ■

I

""That land gave him birth, where the lofty green trees,
Wave o'et the broad billows so proudly,
He was nursed on the shore', where the white crested sea.
And the blustering tempest beat loudly. ' ' — Lees.

Martin Ruffner, the character introduced in onr
last chapter, was a large heavy set Dutchman of
extraordinary muscular ability ; he had been inured
to hardships, and stirring events all his life, having
been brought up almost exclusively in the woods.
Efunting and fisliiiig were his favoritfe amusements,
and the rifle his constant comjianion. He had im-
bibed an early hatred against the "Red Schkins'.'
as he called the Indians, in consequence of their hav-
ing murdered several of his relations in the early
settlement of western Pennsylvania. Martin vowed
from that day an eternal hatred against them.

He had emigrated to Richland County a few years
before the -war of 1812, locating his cabin in the
wild and romantic spot, near the present site of
Petersburgh, now in Ashland County. Around was
an unbroken wilderness, in which was found game
in abundance, and also roving bands of savages,
who, to some extent, were friendly disposed. >

Several of these Indians had frequently called at
his cabin, but he promptly refused to enter into any
sociable arrangements with them. Being a power-
ful man, muscular, active and courageous, one of
the best marksmen in the state, and possessing a
countenance dark, gloomy and forbidding, with eyes

26 PIONEER LIFE.

piercing and fiery, the Indians, to some ^eonsider-
able extent, were kept in awe of him.

Some time after Ruffner had emigrated to this
country, several other families also came, among
which was the Seymour family already noticed.

Shortly after the arrival of this family, Philip
Seymour, hearing of the existence of this eminent
backwoodsman, paid him a visit, and formed an
intimate acquaintarice with him. The impressions
which Philip had received of his character as a
hunter were fully verified on seeing him. Euffner
and Philip entered into a bond of union, the one
an uneducated Dutchman, with the ^ exceptioji of
what pertained to a life in the woods; the other
quite a polished gentleman of some twenty-five years
of age, who, notwithstanding his love fpr books, and
refined society, found the most exquisite enjoyments
in traversing the wild woods as a hunter. Philip
secured the company of Euffner as a forest com-
panion, knowing him to be of invaluable service to
him in his excursions.

In the afternoon of the same day in which Philip
had left his father's cabin, as related in the pre-
ceding chapter, Euffner had also left his, with the
intention of calling at tjie cabin of Mr. Seymour,
for the two-fold purpose of advising him to remove
his family to the block house for safety, and to en-
gage the company of Philip in a few da,ys' hunting
excursion.

While on his way thither he observed the tracks
of a bear, which appearing fresh he determined to
follow them some distance at least. Te trail led
him several miles, when it finally disappeared alto-
gether. He then returned in the direction of the
Seymour cabin, but had not proceded far before the
event took place mentioned in the preceding chap-
ter. It was late at night when Philip and his com-
panion ari-ived at the cabin. The family were all
in bed. But on entering, Kate cheerfully arose and

PIONEER LIFE.

27

prepared them something to eat, after which they
laid down and , were soon enjoying the luxury of
dreamless slumber, from which they did not awaken
till the sun was pouring his flood of light upon the
distant hilltops.

After the family had partaken of the morning's
meal, Philip related the evening's adventure, which
considerably alarmed them, particularly Kate, who
in her mild and pathetic manner exclaimed :

"Brother Philip, how thankful I am to Grod, for
thus preserving your life from a fate so dreadful.'*

"I thinks so too," replied Euffner, "for py
schings Ize not often schoots for nottink."

"Oh God! Mr. Euffner," exclaimed Kate, "what
would we have done in this wild wood had you shot
my brother," and the tears rolled down the rosy
cheeks of the affectionate sister.

"Think no more about this affair, Kate, ".replied
Philip. "It's all over, and no one is hurt. Human
life is surrounded with dangers, and we must meet
its events with true courage. ' '

Philip now related to Ruffher his adventure with
Kanptche. Euffner listened very attentively; and
had the reader been present, he would have seen
a peculiar something in the dark piercing eyes of
the heroic Dutchman, indicative of the fierce hatred
which he bore the Indian race, for no sooner had
Philip ended his story than the highly enraged
Dutchman sprang to his feet, and with eyes flashing
fire, exclaimed: ' ,

"Ter tevilish pugger — plast his plack heart — von
he cums to me mit his tam tidos, I vill send him
,vare Ize sent more as a goot many of his tevilish
sort. ' '

"And do you think," replied Philip, "that this
fellow really intended to murder me!"

"Dos I tink so? py shuperter I tinks I dos. Vy
py te Old Harry it's not more as some veeks ago
ven two of tese red tevils vent right shstrait into

28 PIONBEE LIFE.

the cabin of two of mine friends* near to Sandusky '
an tshopped tern to pieces mit ter tarn little axes. ' '

"Oh yes," replied Philip, "I recollect of hearing
•Johnny Appleseed, talking of that most horrible af-
fair."

'.'Shonny Appleseed," interrupted the Dutchman,
•"Shonny Appleseed- — Veil pe tam if Shonny beint
von of te bestest fellers in all this kuntry. Vy not
more as a veek ago, Shonny cums to my cabin,, and
sez ,he, Mesther Euffner, sez he — vot niakes you pe
so tam pad, poot he did not say ter tam — I only sez
•dat, as you can sthand under te petter vot I mean. ' '

"Vy sez I, Mesthur Schapman, it is tese tevilish
tam Inshun puggers, yat goes trough the voods, like
tevils in ter shapes of beoples, mit ter axes schop-
ping town our m6ns, vimmens and schil'rens."

Here the gravity of Kate and Philip could no
longer be preserved, and they both indulged in a
hearty laugh.

' ' But what about the murder of these two hunters
on the Sandusky Bay," enquired Kate, anxious to
hear ' the particulars of the affair. I have heard
nothing of that yet."

"Vy, mine Cot, vowan, it is von of ter tamtest
putchering schobs in all ter kuntry."

"Ah, indeed," replied Kate, "but can you not
relate the circumstances of this murder? I shojild
like to know all about it."

"Vy, bless your heart, voman, I knows all apout
it, but I cannot shbeak mit out shbekin in ter lan-
guage vot I duz not sthand under mit, un den 1
knows you vbod not mean vot I vood shbeak."

"Oh, yes, Mr. Ruffner," replied Kate, "we can
understand you well enough; so just speak on, and
tell us about the whole affair."

"Veil, veil, Kate," replied Euffrier, "I vill spoke
ter whole mit you, yust tells you all apout it," wheire-

* Gibbs and Buel, who were murdered in the spring of 1812.

PIONEER LIFE. 29

upon, the Dutchman filled his pipe with tobacco and
after giving it a few puffs, began his story, relating:
the whole affair in broken English as best he could,,
during which he made many ludicrous blunders, but
Philip and Kate managed to preserve a respectful
attention, until he was through. Towards the close
of his story Philip's mind became much agitated, his;
face became flushed, and his eyes assumed a fear-
ful aspect. It was evident that emotions of venge-
ance were agitating his bosom. The murder was cold
blooded and desperately cruel, and he had not heard
all the particulars till now, as Johnny Appleseed
had- merely mentioned the circumstance.

Ruffner concluded his story by saying: — "boor
Kibbs, he vos a prave fellow — put tese tarn Inshun
raskals have dun ter schob for him."

The eyes of Philip were rivited upon the Dutch-
man, as he concluded the story of this most horri-
ble affray, and springing to his feet, in a paroxysm
of fearful rage, exclaimed :

, "Curse all the red skins in the universe — the in-
carnate devils! had I the keys which unlock the-
arsenal of storms, then would I open upon their
guilty and treacherous heads the exterminating thun-
ders of heaven, until the last vestige of their hated
race, should be swept from the face of the earth. ' '

The eyes of the heroic Dutchman were fastened
upon the young man, as he dealt out this burning-
malediction, and he imagined he had never before-
seen a living picture of such mingled rage and ven-
geance.

' ' Mine Cot, ' ' exclaimed the astonished Dutchman,
"vot ter te-nl is ter matter mit ter fellow?"

Philip paused a moment; he cast his eyes upon
his parents, then upon Kate ; his glance was fearful,,
his bosom ^eaved wth the wildest emotions, and his
countenance assumed, if possible, an aspect yet
more wrathful than before. Again he spoke, ' ' curse-
these ired hounds of hell, and may the hissing thun-

30 PIONBEB LIFE.

derbolts of heaven fall tMbk and fast upon them
J)

"Philip, Philip," screamed the half affrighted
Kate,. as she. gazed upon the vindictive countenance
of her brother. "In the name of Gr6d don't look so
fearful upon us."

"Mine Cot in Himmel, Gaty," replied Euffner,
^'vot is ter matter mit ter man — py ter Old Harry,
I tinks as how he goes mat as von vild tevil."

"Euffner," replied Philip, after a moment's
pause, and becoming more calm, ' ' I hope you will be
able some day to avenge the death of your friends."

"Dat is yust vot I vant, und vot has prot mte in
tese woods," replied the Dutchman.

"Well spoken, Martin," replied Philip, 'v'and rest
assured I shall expect to share the spoils with you. ' '

"But," replied Kate, "you must remember that
fighting is a game of chance and may be in your
attempts to seek revenge, you may both lose your'
scalps from your heads."

"Looshe mine head from ter skalp," ejaculated
the Dutchman. "I'll pe tam if I do, mit out fusht
putting my brice on ter artigle."

"The voice of a hero," replied Philip, much
pleased with Dutchman's witicism. "When these,
red vermin get Martin's scalp, it will be when he
■can 't defend it any longer. ' '

"Yah, yah," replied the Dutchman, "dat is hit,
py ter old Harry, yust let ter tevils cum on mit ter
tam little axe^, und I shous tern vitch vay ter vind
plows."

The sun was fast going down, as Ruffner bid the
family his usual "goot daugh" and returned honie.

CHAPTER VI.

THE MURDEB OF GIBBS AND BUEI^.

' ' 'Twas death to tarry, and 'twas death to fly,
Death bared his weapon, with terrific might
And all was desolation. ' ' — Anonymous.

Before following up the adventures of Euffner,
on the evening he left the cabin of Seymour, we
propose to lay before the reader a condensed his-
tory of the murder referred' to in the preceding
chapter.

Two hunters named Gibbs and Buel had built
themselves a small log cabin, about one mile from
Sandusky bay, about one mile S. E.of the present
site of Sandusky. The cabin was situated on the
West side of a small prairie, and was surrounded
by a thick growth of bushes and small trees. It was
a delightful location, and in the midst of a beauti-
ful hunting country. Here these two hunters re-
mained, for some time, happy in their wild pursuits.

Two Indians named Omic and Semo, belonging
to the Ottawa tribe, frequently possed by this cabin,
on their way to the mouth of the Huron river, where
they exchanged their venison and furs for powder,
lead, tobacco, whiskey, etc. Forming an acquaint-
ance with Gibbs and Buel, they made this cabin their
stopping place over night. One night about twp
o 'clock, these savages csime to this cabin highly in-
toxicated, making a tremendous uproar, and de-
manding admittance, but fearing that they would
keep up their nose all night, they were admitted. As
soon as they had got inside they commenced a gen-
eral "pow wow." Gibbs ordered them to keep quiet

32 , PIONJSEE Lli'JS.

or quit the cabin. They refused to do either. Where-
upon they were knocked down and dragged out.

The Indians then withdrew from the house, and
nothing was heard of them for one or two days,
when they retiirned perfectly sober, and in a friendly
manner, making no allusion to their former treat-
ment; this was done to remove all suspicion as to
their intentions. They returned again in the night
of the same day, and requested permission to stay
all night, which was immediately gl-anted as before.
Gibbs and Buel went to bed, and the Indians lay
down as usual before the fire, and apparently in a
few moments slept soundly. After, Gribbs and Buel
had been asleep Bomething over an hour, the sav-
ages quietly arose, each grasping his tomahawk, and
stealthily going to the bed, dealt their blows at the
heads of the sleepers. The blow aimed at Buel was
well directed and the hatchet was buried in his skull;
but the blows not being given simultaneously, the
noise of the stroke upon the head of Buel aroused
Gibbs, who springing to his feet encountered the two
savages.— Gibbs made a desperate resistance, but
was immediately struck with the tomahawk of one
of the savages, severing his right arm, except' a
piece of the skin, which held it fast. Instantly an-
other blow broke his left arm ; then making a des-
perate bound, he sprang from them and fled, but
being hotly pursued as he entered the bushes^ he
was shot by Semo with a pistol.

About eight, or ten days after this affray a man
from the settlement of Huron, came to the cabin of
Gibbs and Buel on some business, and when he came
to the door found that there were marks of blood
about it. He entered the cabin', and the first object
which met his astonished gaze was the body of Buel,
which had been thrown head foremost, down a kind
of cellar in the middle of the floor, his feet project-,
ing. above. He immediately returned to the settle-
ment, and communicated his discovery to the set-

PIONEER LIFE.

33

tiers, whereupon a party of eight or ten set out in
pursuit of the murderers, first stopping at the ill-
fa'ted cabin.

An examination of the body of Buel, revealed the
fact of his head being split open — his legs broken,
and the point of a spear still remaining in his head.
The company who knew the Indians recollected that
Omic usually carried a spear with him while on his
trading expeditions to. Huron. They extracted the
spear from the head of Buel, preserving it for fu-
ture reference. A search for the body of Gibbs now
commenced. They soon discovered his trail track-
ing him by his blood and fopt prints. From the in-
credible distance of his leaps, he was evidently much
frightened. His body was found across the prairie,
about sixty rods in front of the cabin, on the edge
of the underbrush. A ball had entered his back and
lodged in his left- breast. Both his arms were nearly
cut off, and he was otherwise dreadfully mangled.
The ball was taken from his body and also pre-
served.

The next adventure was to obtain a clue to the
murderers. It was known that these Indians had
often lodged with Gibbs and Buel, and the point of
the'spearj found in the head of Buel, resembled the
one carried by Omic. These considerations induced
the company to fasten their suspicions upon Semo
and Omic.

They were consequently pursued to the mouth
of Carian river, where the boat was made fast, and
all the whites except one, secreted themselves, while-
this one who was well acquainted with the Indians,
went up the river to where Semo and Omic resided.
He found Omic a short distance up the river, hav-
ing in his possession the remaining part of the spear,
with which he had killed Buel. He succeeded in per-
suading him down the river,, under pretence of go-
ing with him on a hunting expedition; and at the
moment he reached the spot where the boat lay, the

34 PIONEER LIFE.

secreted party sprung upon him, and secured him
with' ropes. He was taken to Cleveland, tried, found
guilty, and executed.

Semo was next demanded of his tribe. At lirst
they refused to give him up, but on being satisfied
of his guilt they consented to do so. A delegation
was sent to receive him. The savage on finding that
he was to be delivered |nto the hands of his enemies,
asked permission to say a few words to the com-
pany. It was granted him ; and he arose. He was
a tall', well built man; and somewhat graceful in his
movements. Every eye was fixed upon him, ahd
every ear was open to hear what he had to say.

"My brothers," said the savage, "me kill Gibbs
with my pistol^ — me kill many pale face— me kill
more if me could. You say gemo must go with white
man.. Semo no go, he Ho want to hang— he sooner
be shot."

• Then casting his dark piercing eyes full upon the
whites who sat some distance from where he stood,
he paused for a moment. The glance of his eye was
fearfully wild, and his grave and sullen counten-
ance, gave indications of his committing some act of
desperation. He drew from his bosom his pistol. A
death like silence pervaded the assembly. Fearing
that his vengeance was about to fall upon some one
present, .the Indians around him were about to rush
upon him to disarm hirh; seeing the movement,
Semo discharged his weapon ; a frightful yell, and
a, sudden bound into the air, and the next moment
the suicidal savage fell to the earth to rise no more!
He had shot himself tbrough the heart.*

It was allieged by Omic, on the day of his trial,
that the provocation whick induced them to com-
mit this murder originated from the ill treatment
which they received on the evening when they were
knocked down and dragged out of doors.

* The particulars' of this affair have been published in Moore 's
West. Mag., vol. 2, no. 5, taken from the MSS. History of the
"Fire Lands."

CHAPTEE VII.

»

SUBFNEE'S ADVENTUEE "WITH "WOLVES.

"Onoe a lonely hunter strayed,
Careless, fearless, on his way,
, Through the wUd wood'^ gloomy shade,
"Wlhere howling wolves in ambush lay. — Lees.

We shall no"w leave the Seymour family to the
enjoyment of a comfortable night's rest,' and follow
up the adventures of the Dutchman, after leaving
the cabin.

It "was late in the afternoon "when Euffner' started
for home'. He proceeded slowly through the woods
.in search of game, but night overtook him just as
he was entering the borders of a dark and dismal
swamp, which lay at the foot of a ridge of dry land,
separated from a small lake of water.* This swamp
was, no doubt, originally part of the lake, as the
outlet of the lake passes into it. The swamp at this
time was a most dismal looking place. Tall thick
grass and weeds grew around its margin, and vari-
ous kinds of serpents and wild beasts were its inhab-
itants.

'As our hero was nearing this horrible looking
place, his attention was aroused by a singular con-
fusion of sounds. He paused, and' listened atten-
tively, and discovered thtirh to proceed from the
swamp. The last glimmer of evening twilight had
disappeared, and a deep darkness^ was gathering
over the forest. Advancing cautiously a short dis-
tance further, the souiids became more audible.

"Py"tam," mentaHy ejaculated the Dutchman, as
a loud yell broke upon his ears, "voolvs py shupi-

* This Lake lies near Perrysville, Ashland County.

36 PIONEEB LIKE.

ter . " In an instant another frightfully mingled' howl
rent the air, some distance in the forest behind him,
which was answered ,by those in the swamp with no
less unmusical vehemenae. Euffner was alone —
darkness was around him, and a fearful foe under
cover of that darkness had surrounded him. *

Nearer and still nearer came the advancing band
of midnight marauders, and at every bound their
horrible yells broke in upon the forest. It was evi-
dent that the pursuing gang had scented his tracks.
As the yells of this gang T^ere borne to those in the
swamp, the latter answered with no less appalling
sound. Euffner's indecision iat this critical period
was but momentary, he sprang into the branches of
a tree standing a few steps from him, but scarcely
iiad he secured this position, when the whole gang
surrounded the tree, and in a moment were joined
by those in the swamp. Then commenced a scene of
howling and yelling which baffles all description.
Not less than two score of these loathsome and un-
sightly creatures mingled their wild yells in "horrid
harmony." It appeared to Ruffner, that every mo-
ment their yelling grfew louder and more horrid.
Occasionally they would make the most desperate
leaps towards the branches of the tree as if deter-
mined .to spring upon their intended victim, and de-
vour him soul and body. But finding that they could
not succeed in their attempts,' they became more
furious; and their, yells mo r6 horrible at every fail-
ure. But still they would not leave the spot.-

Ruffner sat among, the branches of the tree look-
ing down upon the heart-ohilling scene around him.
The glaring eyeballs of the infuriated band of wild
beasts, shone like coals of fire, as they prowled
around the tree, making night hideous with their'
wild orgies. Thus he sat for some moments ; he was
beyond their reach but not out of their sight and
hearing. At first our hero was somewhat agitated,

PIOlSTEEE LIFE. ' 37

but finding himself beyond the power of their de-
vouring jaws he became enraged.

"Vot," said he, half aloud, "Vill test tevilish
puggars schase me on xer tree, un den keep up ter
vooliSh parking mit'a noise m6re as like vild tevils?
Py schings I vill shtop some of ter troats."

Examining his "bouch," he found it well supplied
with bullets. He then commenced to open his bat-
tery from the tree, firing upon them at every oppor-
tunity with much success. On the first fire a death
yell from one of their number told that the ball had
taken effect. In this way he kept up his fire till near
midnight. After he had killed and wounded several
of them, they retreated to a greater distance from
the tree, still keeping up a continuous howling. It
was near the ho.ur of midnight, and the moon was
just pushing up her modest face, before the wolves
showed any signs of fetreating. But at length their
howling died away in the distance.

The moon had now begun -to cast her light upon
the forest. Euffner descended, and on examination
found he had actually shot ten of the number, some
of which were not dead; these he instantly dis-
patched, and taking their scalps proceeded on his
way- to his cabin, where he arrived in a short time,
l^ext morning he visited the spot where he encount-
ered the wolves, and found by the traces of bl56d and
other marks that he had wounded probably as many
as he had killed- Eeturning to his cabin, he remained
there a few days making preparations for the pro-
posed hunting excursion.

It may not be im'proper to notice in the conclusion
of this^ chapter, that Euffner had under his juris-
diction an orphan lad of about fourteen years pf age.
The original name of this lad was William Buntley,
"but when he came under the care of our Dutclmian,
he received the name of "Bunty Billy," from the
circumstance that he was thick set and heavy built.
Billy was naturally a smart, active boy, quick in

38

PIONEER LIFE.

understanding, good natured and somewhat witty.
He had an impediment in his articulation, known by
the name of "lisping." — Billy possessed a- rifle
which Euffner had purchased for him ; he was fond
of the woods, and considering his age was a good
marksman. Euffner was vei^y kind to the boy, and
proffered to take him to the block house for safety";
Billy refused, stating that he could take care' of him-
self.

At the time appointed Euffner and Billy made
their appearance at the cabin of Mr. Seymour. —
They arrived there on! the evening previous t'o the
morning the hunters were to start.

^

^i^^

CHAPTER VIII.

HUNTING EXCURSION.

"What's this deceitful world to me?
Ambition, pride and •hoa'rded gains,
Shall perish, and the vile worm be
• Soon feasting on our poor remains." — A. Lees.

Morning dawned, and as the first tints of light
came pouring upon the forest, the hunters were astir.
. The family were aroused, and Kate prepared their
morning meal.

"Pilly," said Euffner, "ve vont you to be a goot
poy, and sthay mit this old shentleman and tel irim-
mins, and shoot all ter pares, and volves and vild
cats, and ebery ting that flies on two leks."

"Thgermany Gosthenth," replied Billy much as-
tonished, thdinkenth, can anything fly on thwo
legths." _ ■ ,

- "Oh," replied Kate, much amhsed at Euffner's
singular request, he means any thing that walks on
two. legs and can fly. ' '

"Yah Gaty, dat ish it — any ting vot flies a valk-
on two legs a sthanding, mit fetters on its pack a
lying down— dat is yust what I mean."

Breakfast! ready and all sat down to a bountiful
meal. Philip and Ruffner, as soon as they had
eaten, left the cabin, and were soon out of sight.

"Martin," said Philip, "in, what directipn shall
we steer?"

"Veil I tinks ved petter go more as a little vile dis
vay, den ve vill go von leetle vile anudier vay, and
after a vile sthop at der place vere ve vill find our-

40 PIONEER LIFE.

"Well, then, if that's the case let us proceed with
all possible haste," replied Philip, "but still I can't
understand where about "never was" is located."

"Veil I tells you," replied the Dutchman, "it is
yust ver ve vill pe ven ve git tere, mit out ve don't
get tere on dis vay. ' '

"Ah, yes, replied Philip, not wisMng to press the
subect any further, "I understand you," and the.
two hunters continued their journey until they ar-
rived at the mouth of the Eocky Fork. Here they
seated themselves, and for a while gazed upon the
sparkling flood as it rolled over its stony bed.

At this time the scenery in this region was of the
wildest character. The bottoms of either side of
the stream were very fertile, producing an abund-
ance of wild grass, flowers and flowering slirubs.

But our heroes had not been seated long in this
romantic spot,, before the appearance of a solitary
man, some distance below them, attracted their at-
tention. Eager to ascertain who he might be, and
his business there, they moved' down the stream to-
wards him, under cover of weeds and bushes. — On
nearing the spot they discovered the stranger to be
none other than the good hearted Johnny Appleseed,
busily engaged cultivating a young nursery which
he had planted there. ' "

"All alone, Mr. Chapman," said Philip advancing
towards him, "but I hope I have not disturbed your
solitary devotions.

"No, no," replied Johnny, "I was just clearing
out some weeds from my nu,rsery, and while thus
engaged was meditating upon the similarity of an
imcultivated wilderness to that of the human heart
unregenerated. Both are in a wild state — in one
are found weeds, thorns and briars, and in the other
the brambles of sin and misery."

Quite a poetic comparison, Mr. Chapman, ' ' replied
Philip, "but tell me are you not afraid of your scalp

PIONEER LIFE. ' 41

being taken by the 'red vermin,' which infest these
woods?"

' 'No, ' ' replied Johnny.

"And, why not?" asked Philip.

"Because," said he, "I live in harmony with all
men — these rude people not excepted. Within the"
range of my acquaintance I do not think I have one
single enemy, wi4;h the exception of the devil, whp,
I am satisfied, entertains no good will towards me,
or any man who op'poses' his designs."

"The devil!" replied Philip, with a smile, "and
pray, Mr. Chapman, who is he?"

Looking Philip steadily in the face for a moment,
he replied, "strange, strange, young man, that one
of his most faithful and 6bedient children, should
so far outrage the memory of Ms parents, and that,
too, after having spent years of toil in his service,
as to inquire who he is!"

Philip was not expecting this retort, and for a
moment seemed at a loss for a reply. Casting his
eyes upon Euffner, with a half suppressed smile, he
wished to di'fecover whether he understood the im-
port of Johnny's rejoinder. Euffner 's 'perceptions
were keen enough, and he replied: "Dat ish it,
Mesther Schapman; he has got ter wrong sow py
ter ear dish time. Dish feller tinks pecause he ish
a good scholar dat he knows ebery ting; but, by
schingo, Mr. Schapman, you know more in von leetle
minute den he knows mit all his books."

' ' Mr. Chapman, ' ' said Philip, ' ' I am frank to con-
fess that I am not much of a religionist. I pay but
little attention to what you would call my spiritual
nature. Things of amore tangible nature engage my
thoughts at this time; and to tell you the truth, I
would sooner encounter ten thousand of your spir-
itual devils, with imaginary hoofs, horns and tails,
than ten of ^the wild red devils, which are at this
moment prowling like wild beasts through the forest,

42 PIONEER UlTE.

carrying death and destruction in their desolating
career. ' '

"Ah, young man!" replied Johnny, "'the despla-
tion and eternal misery of one immortal spirit under
the influence of Satan, is infinitely more lamentable
than the destruction of the whole human family,
temporarily considered."

"In your opinion," replied Philip, "but to tell yon
the truth, much as I have heard about this spiritual
devil, I have never ha4 the pleasure of forming his
acquaintance. ' '

"Well, well, young man," replied Johnny, "if you
continue to live in your sins, and die unregenerated,
r am fearful you will form his acquaintance to your
eternal regret ; but eyes you have, and you see not
— ears you have, and you hear not — a heart you
have, but you understand not ; hence you are led a
captive by him, and his will is yours."

"Well, Mr. Chapman," said Philip, evidently con-
victed of the correctness of Johnny's position, "I
have not time to press the argument any further,
however much I might wish to. Ruffner and my-
self are now on a hunting excursion, ' and will be
gone a few" days, and having accidently seen you
here, I thought I would make you a call, and request
you to oblige me by calling at our cabin every evejXr
ing while in the neighborhood. The family would be
much pleased to have you call with them, and I have
no doubt, you will have a much better success in
your religious operations with them, than with my-
self.

Johnny promised compliance, whereupon ike two
hunters bid him good evening, ahd resumed their
journey, until they came to the mouth of a small
stream,* emptying into the Clear Fork.

This region, at the time of which we write, was
beautifully wild and romantic, containing an abund-
ance of wild game. Bearg, wolves, wild cats, deer

* Since called Wolf's Run, a few miles east of the present village of Ne-wviHe.

PIONEEK LIFE.

4S

aad raccoons were more numerous here than in any
other region of the country; this was owing to the
greater abundance of rock dens and deep ravines,
affording them a more secure retreat. Philip was
much pleased at the location, and expressed his de-
termination to makd this a camping ground fo,r the
night. Here the clear sparkling waters rolled over
the pebble'd bottom with a rippling sound, 'which
mingled with the melody of the feathered songsters,
and the hum of wild bees, sipping their sweets from
each tiny jQiower, conspired to fill the soul of Philip
with the liveliest emotions. He gazed with delight
upon the enchanting scene around him, and seat-
ing himself upqn the banks of the stream, indulged
in a few moments meditation and soliloquy; some-
times repeating alo^d the thotfghts that arose in his
mind. Eiuffner had seated himself upon a log a
littl^ in the rear of Philip, and was busily engaged
in rolling volumes of tobacco smoke from his mouth,
ever and anon smacking his huge lips as he rolled
forth an extra quantity of the smoke.

In this position sat our hunters for some moments,
one in deep meditation, and the other sui'rounded
with a halo of tobacco smoke, and perfectly indiffer-
ent to the soul inspiring beauties of primal nature.

After having rested a few moments, they com-
menced the erection of a small hut, composed of
poles and bark. This was soon accomplished and
the two hunters laid down to rest.

CHAPTER IX.

ADVENTXIBB WITH SNAKES,

*
"What horrid inusie do I hear!
How terrible is strikes the ear;
How fearful 'tis at midnight hour
To hear the serpent's charming power,
Why vengeful crawling 'round my bed,
And keeping up this serenade?"

It was late in the afternoon when our little party
arrived at the mouth of the run. The sun had set
in cloudless glory behind the adjoining hills, before
they had fully completed their shelter. Evening twi-
light was just disappearing as our hunters lay down
to sleep, Eu:ffner was soon in the ' ' land of dreams,"
but Philip could not close his eyes, and was in the
act of turning himself round, when a peculiar whiz-
zing rattle fell upon his ears. The sound was
familiar, and springing to his feet he called upon his
companion to follow suit.

"Snakes! snakes j by heavens!" exclaimed he,.a;5
he sprang outside of the shelter.

"Vot ter tevil is ter matter mit you mans?" ex-
claimed the Dutchman, rubbing his eyes.
• "Get out of that!" exclaimed Philip, "as ^ast as
your legs will carry you, or you will be covered witli
rattlesnakes."

"Eattle shnakes !" exclaimed the Dutchman, "vere
ish ter rattle snakes per tam!" But before he
could say any more his ears caught the sound of the
venomous reptiles, as ageneral rattling among their
tails had now commenced, and rising to his feet,
said —

"Yell, I tinks I hears ter tam noise under ter

PIONEER LIFE. ' 45

tails, and I sphose ve had petter yust lelTter tevils-
be."

"I think so," replied Philip, "for there are pile&
of them here."

"Veil den vot shall we do for a blace to shleepf"
inquired the Dutchman.

, "Let us put another shanty," replied Philip. Ac-
cordingly the two hunters went to work, and in a
short time had the satisfaction of taking refuge in
another shelter.

The hunters lay down once more.' Euffner was
soon fast asleep; but Philip's mind was full of
snakes, and he could not close his eyes. He tried in
vain to banish these wild imaginations from his
mind. If he attempted to shut his eyes, a thousand
forked, fiery tongues were darting at him. — There-
he lay, restless and uneasy, while Euffner was in
the full enjoyment of slumber.

It will be recollected that Philip had an unaccount-
able repugnance to snakes. There was no class of
animals that he hated inore than the snake family.
He had had several narrow escapes from them, and
on several occasions had been bitten by them. Once,
in his own cabin, a large rattlesnake had taken re-
fuge under his bed, where it lay all night, and in
the morning, while in the act of dressing himself, it
commenced its "infernal rattle," as. he called it, and
on looking under the bed, in order to ascertain if it
was there, it made a leap toward him, and its head
came within a few inches of his face.

Philip succeeded in killing the reptile but not until
it had bitten him. Since that fearful morning, Philip
had entertained the most profound hatred of snakes,
with no little dread of them; therefore the reader
will not be at a loss to account for the state of his
mind on this occasion.

As we have remarked, he lay in this restless con-
dition; how long, he could not tell. At length he
found himself deprived of locomotion, and a sort of

46 pioNEEK LIFE.

stupidity came over- Mm. His "feelings were most
singular and distressing. He tried to move, but in
vain. Presently a huge rattlesnake came crawling
towards him ; its diamond eyes were fixed upon his,
and its forked tongue darted at him in a most feroci-
ous manner. When it had approached within sev-
eral feet of him it halted, and commenced a most
fearful rattle with its tail; instantly a hundred^
others made their appearance; advancing upon him
from' different directions. Philip gazed upon this
heart chilling' scene, hut he was utterly unable to
extricate himself from his perilous condition.— Be-
fore him lay a dense thicket, and around him the
ground was literally strewn with the most venom-
ous reptiles. They were of all species, sizes, shapes
and colors — bull snakes, copper heads, rattlesnakes,
hlapk snakes, green snakes, blue racers aijd vipers,
with all others peculiar to dry land. The trees
around him were alive with them — and all advancing
upon him. A sense of suffocation oppressed him—
Ihey had wound themselves around his legs, his arms
and body. He would have torn the reptiles from
him--^he would have trampled them under his feet;
he would have bounded from that place and found
a watery grave at the bottom of the creek, but a sin-
gular fatality held him there. He looked around for
his friend, but he had disappeared. A monster rep-
tile had wound itself al>out his neck, and was in the
;act of choking him. Philip made one desperate ef-
fort and springing to his feet, he awoke, and found
it all a horrid dream ! exclaiming in a most ferocious
manner: ' '

"Curse all the reptile race, frona the, first bald
headed serpent in. the Garden of Eden, down to the
last vestige which shall remain on the face of the
earth. ' '

"Vot ter tevil is ter matter now, man? Vot kind
of a tam voolish vay is dis of getting out from ter

PIQNEEK LpE. ' , ,47

ped? Vy, py ter lord Harry, you looks more as like
ter tevil himself!"

' ' Blast the snakes, " cried Philip, still rubbing hia
eyes, and apparently somewhat bewildered.

"Vy, mine Cot, man, vere ish ter any shnakes?"
but he had scarcely asked the question, when casting
his eyes towards the place where he lay, he discov-
ered the head of an enormous rattlesnake, peering
from the crevices of a log against which he had
rested his head during the night. Ruffner uttered an
exclamation of surprise, and was about to stoop
down to the earth for a club to dispatch the reptile,
when another, not quite as large, made a fearful leap
at him, just as Philip was about to warn him of his
danger.*

Fortuantely, before the reptile had time to gather
himself for another leap, Philip came down upon
him with a fearful crash, and the reptile was soon
writhing in the agonies of death. In another moment
and. the one under the log met a similar fatfe.

Daylight had just broken in uf)on the forest as
Philip was aroused from his' dream — nay, not alto-
gether a dream, for the reader must understand that
the snake which had leaped upon Rjiffner, had actu-
ally crawled up and coiled itself upon the bosom of
Philip, which may probably account foi? the horrible
sensations which he endured; and on springing to
his feet, the reptile had rolled from his breast and
fallen to the ground.

* But why did not the serpent, as he lay upon the
bosom of the young man, inflict wounds Upon his
body? It is not, however, relevant to our tale to
answer this question. It is enough for us to know
that just such occurrences as we have related ^.re by
no means rare in the experiences Of pioneer life.—
Many such instances are left upon record in the lives

* Mr. Jsdnes Ounningllain, now residing near Newville, states
that along this stream, dens of these reptiles have been discovered
numbering from 100 to 200.

48 PIONEER LIFE.

of western hunters. We could mention several, but
will not presume upon the intelligence of the reader.

After our heroes had despatched the two serpents
as already mentioned, they proceeded to the shanty,
which they had forsaken in the evening. Here they
were no little astonished at finding that they ^ad
actually taken shelter upon a den of rattlesnakes;
for on removing the shanty and clearing away the
rubbish, their ears were greeted with the music of
this species of the snake family. The battle soon
commenced in earnest, -and for two long hours were
our heroes engaged in killing enormous reptiles.
PhUip showed himself a master hand at the business,
and Euffner fairly roarer with laughter, at witness-
ing the dexterity of the snake-hating Philip, and
every now and then amusing him with, some Dutch
drollery.

As soon as the wotk of snake extermination had
been completed, the two hunters continued their
journey down the banks of the Clear Fork, until they
arrived at the s^ot where Newville now stands, »

CHAPTER X. .

HUNTING EXCUESION— INDIAN CABIN— AN ADVENTURE,

*

' ' Oh let me climb those gray clad hills,
Bough, rugged though they be.
And nestle by the shady rills.
Or 'neath the shady tree./'

Ascending the high cliff which overlooks this vil-
lage, the romantic Philip sat himself down upon a
moss covered rock.

The morning was beautiful and all nature looked
gay and smiling. The mingled melodies of a thou-
sand sohgsters, rang upon the morning air. To
Philip, the scene appeared the more delightful as
he contrasted it with the dreamy horror's of the past
liight. Philip's anticipations of; the grand and beau-
tiful were fully realized. Below him was spread out
the interminable forest — the variegated landscape.
He had left Euffner in the valley below, and he was
now by himself on the highest point of the bluff, free
to revel in his own imaginations.

"The forest, the mighty forest! how it inspires
,the mind with emotions too big for utterance. —
Tho\isands and thousands of acres, covered with the
most luxuriant vegetation, through which bright
sparkling waters toll, and on whose bank are seen
the blending colors of the vast family of flowering-
shrubs, and blooming, wild flowers. Man may boast
of himself, of his honor, his knowledge and his great-
ness, and what is he? An insect — a worm-i-a mere'
nothing, scarcely discernible on the grand panorama
of nature. Place the crimsoned robed, 'and diamond
decked monarch, even upon this inferior pinaclie,
then talk to him of power, greatness and glory — tell

52 PION'EEE LIFE.

examined the cavern, if such it may be named, and
finding no visible signs or wild beasts or reptiles,
they deterjnined to shelter here till morning ; neoes"'-
sary preparations were accordingly made, and the
hunters laid down. But their slumbers were fre-
quently disturbed duj:-ing the night by the hideous
yells of prowling wolves, which were enjoying a rich
repast on the bodies of the slain animals.

Morning once more dawned upon the, forest ; and
with the "early tints of opening day" our hunters
were astir. Leaving the cavern, they proceeded in
a north-easterly direction for several miles until
they came in sight of a considerable ledge of rocky
bluffs.t This ledge of rocks is situated on the road
leading now from Washington to Newville, and near
the residence of Mr. John J. Douglas. All things
considered they form a most magnificent and re-
markable rock structure,

Our hunters were soon upon these heights, enjoy-
ing the luxury of a cool and salubrious morning air.
To Philip the prospect was one of no little interest ;
and although this humble, locality could not be
bl-ought in comparison with the garden vales of
Neosha, or the alluvial prairies of Kansas, yet to his
view the prospect was no less beautiful.

Here these blufEs, though miniature in comparison,
are nevertheless covered with dense primeval for-
ests ; and upon these heights in other days, the red
man of the forest had stood, inspired with the spirit
of unobstructed freedom.

"How beautiful is na.ture," exclaimed the roman-
tic young hunter, while Euffnei* sat smoking his pipe,
unconscious of tV(p beauties around him. — "How
beautiful is nature," repeated he, "the green earth,
the blue heavens, and the wide spreading forest.
Whether we gaze upon the mountain summit, the

t These have since been denominated 'Pipe's Cliffs,' in memory
of the Delaware Chief of that name, who resided near Jeroineville
in now Ashland county but formerly Eichland county, in 1812. '

• I \ PIONEEB LIFE. , •' 51

of a dense thicket, which they entered and to itheir no
small astonishment found a solitary cabin, very
rudely constructed.* Oji entering it they found that
was uninhabited, though bearing marks of having re-
cently been occupied.

, "Vot dosh all dish mean!" inquired Ruffner. "Py
shings dish a leetle Inshun house. "

"Ah!" said Philip, smiling; "why may it not be a
big Indian, as well as a little one that lived here?"

"Veil," replied the Dutchman, "you may shpose
him a leetle or pig, yust as you blease, poot I means
vots you know without your tam' foolishness."

"Yes, yes," replied Philip, "I understand you
now. You refer to the size, of the house and not the
Indian who resided in it."

"Dat ish it — dat ish it," replipd the Dptchman,
" and I shpose him leetle house without ter Inshun."

"But there is" no time to lose here, EuffAer," said
Philip, "we must look for game," and so saying the
hunters left the cabin. Retracing their steps, they
returned in the direction of the hill upon which they
had met with such good success in the morning. But
meeting with no game which they considered worthy
o^ their attention, they concluded to seek a shelter
for the night, and at the dawn of day, return home.

The sun had now sunk behind the adjacent hill,
and the shades of night were again settling down
'upon the forest ; and yet our heroes knew not where
to rest for the jiight. In a few moments, however,
they caught the sight of a ledge of rocks, at the head
of a deep ravine, and proceeding to these, they dis-
covered a spacious vQpening,* which running some
distance under afforded an ample shelter. Having

*(This cabin was tHe habitation of an old Indian named Lyons,
some way connected- with Buckwheat and Johnny Cake. He is said
to 1 have been upwards of 10'5 years old, and was at the burning of
Col. Crawford. '

* This ravine and cavern may be seen a short distance north
west of the present site of NewviHe, near or on the land of John
Fergusdn.

54 I . PIONEER LIFE.

(for such they discovered him to be,) became some-
what agitated, and pointing his finger to his feet,
exclaimed in a tone sufficiently loud to be heard by
our hunters, "white man here!"— Then casting his
eyes ai'ound in every direction, he seemed to scruti-
nize every object, gazing in the direction of our
hunters much more intensely than in any other. For
a moment Philip imagined that he was discovered.
After the old man had satisfied himself that no '
human eyes, apparently were upon him, he seated
himself by the side of the woman, and, in a low tone
of voice, entered into a long conversation, relating,
some story or legend, connected, as our heroes sup-
posed with the history of this romantic 'cliff. The
young woman, (for such they discovered her to be,)
listened very attentively and apparently, at times,
seemed much affected, now and then wiping the tears
from her eyes. '

As the old man concluded his story, he bowed, him-
self upon the rock (the young woman imitating his
movements) and remained in a kneeling posture for
some moments. Presently a cloud of smoke ascended
from the altar, and the orisons were over. Descend-
ing the rock the two Indians again set forward on
their journey.

As soon as they were out of sight and hearing,
Philip and Euffner returned t'o the rock. Philip's
curiosity was excited to know by Vhat means the old
man detected the presence of "White man," as he.
termed them.. He examined the face of the rock crit-
ically, but was unable to discover any signs.by which
such, a recognition could be made.

"This is sometl^ng unaccountably strange," said .
Philip, as he concluded his examination, "I am at
a loss to discover the marks or signs by which that
old Chief, as I suppose him to be, detected our pres-,
ence here."

"I dus'nt tink any, ting sdrange apout it," said
the Dutchman, at the same time calling Philip's at-

PIONEEB LIFE. 53

spray washed shore of old ocean, or the flower decked
plains, all, all are beautiful and inspiring. Cast our
eyes over nature where we may and a thousand in-
teresting objects meet our vision. Whethei^ we listen
to the low breathings of the gentlq zephyrs, or the
frightful detonations of the bellowing tempest — the
glaring lightning's flash, or the soft and .transient
light of the passing meteor — the inimitable radiance
of the many colored rainbow, or the evanescent cor-
ruscations of the ever changing aurora — yet in all
; these we cannot help feeling the highest degree of
holy veneration. Whether we gaze upon the limpid
waters of the clear running brooks, which trickle
over grass and pebbles along their flower strewn
banks, or upon the fearful precipitations of the awe
inspiring cataract, or the foaming surges of the sun-
less deep^we are in either case constrained to ac-
knowledge the sublime teachings of nature, a source
of infinite gratification; ^.nd he, whose soul i^ so
luggish as not to be able to realize such an over-
powering sense of the beautiful and sublime is an
obejct of deep commiseration "

"Vot ish dat?" ejaculated the Dutchman, point-
ing his finger towards a couple of moviug objects
that were making their way towards the spot where
our heroes were sitting. "Inshuns, py shupiter!"
and the. Dutchman grasped his rifle ready for a com-
bat. In a moment Philip discovered them, and bid-
ding Euffner to keep quiet and follow him, the two
hunters, cautiously retreated some distance in the
rear of the cliff, cbncealing themselves in a thick
dump of underbrush, which completely hid them
from the sight of the Indians; but from which the
top of the cliff became distinctly visible, by slightly
moving to one side' of the thick foliage.

It was but a few moments till our heroes discov-
ered the two Indians, a man and a woman, ascending
the rock on which they had just been seated. As
soon as they had gained the summit, the old Indian,

54 ; PIONEEK LIFE.

(for such they discovered him to be,) became some-
what agitated, and pointing his finger to his feet,
exclaimed in a tone sufficiently loud to be heard by
our hunters, "white man here!" — Then casting his
eyes around in every direction, he seemed to scruti-
nize every object, gazing in the direction of our
hunters much more intensely than in any other. For
a moment Philip imagined that he was discovered.
After the old man had satisfied himself that no
human eyes, apparently were upon him, he seated
himself by the side of the woman, and, in a low tone
of voice, entered into a long conversation, relatingfi
some story or legend, connected, as our heroes sup-
posed with the history of this romantic 'cliff. The
young woman, (for such they discovered her to be,)
listened very attentively and apparently, at times,
seemed niuch affected, now and then wiping the tears
from her eyes. '

As the old man concluded his story, he bowed^ him-
self 'upon the rock (the young woman imitating his
movements) and remained in a kneeling posture for
6ome moments. Presently a cloud of smoke ascended
from the altar, and the orisons were over. Descend-
ing the rock the t\vo Indians again set forward on
their journey.

As soon as they were out of sjght and hearing,
Philip and Ruffner returned to the rock. Philip's
curiosity was excited to know by What means the old
man detected the presence of "White man," as he
termed them.. He examined the face of the rock crit-
ically, but was unable to discover any signs by which
such, a recognition could be made.

"This is someth,ing unaccountably strange," said
Philip, as he concluded his examination, "I am at
a loss to discover the marks or signs by which that
old Chief, as I suppose him to be, detected our pres-
ence here." J

"I dus'nt tink any ting sdrange apout it," said
the Dutchman, at the same time calling Philip's at-

PIONEEB life:

55

tention to foot prints made upon the soft moss, wMch,
had overspread the rock.

, "Plain enough, Martin, plain enough," said Phil-
ip, "and I most heartily accord to you a superior
sense of perception."

"Yaw," replied the Dutchman, "poot I shoost
tells you young mans vot I tinks about it. Ven yOu
get in ter woods mit your eyes shut, you had petter
pe at home."

"Thank you, Martin, thank you," replied Philip,
' ' I will endeavor to profit by your admonition. But
certainly I should like to know the history of that
old Indian. I feel confident there is something in-
teresting in his history."

"Veil, veil young mans," replied Euffner, "dish
may pe vot you likes, poot I cares netting apout all
dis tam nonsense. All Inshuns pe von- tarn rascal.
I knows more apout ter — vot you calls em?" "his-
tory, ' ' replied Philip — ' ' yaw I knows more apout ter
history as I vants to know. ' '

"That may all be very true, Martin, but still I
have a curiosity to know something more of the old
Chief and his daughter; at any rate here is a good
,*hance for an adventure; and I propose that we em-
brace the opportunity.

" "Veil, vot vood you pe after now — Ise ghust ter
schap for ter pizzness."

"Well I propose that we follow that old Indian
and ascertain if possible, who he is and the nature of
his business in this region. But remember, there is
to be no shooting without a presentation of actual
danger."

"Yaw, yaw," replied Euffner, laughingly, "I
knows vot you ish apout, you wants to shpoke mit
ter Inshun vomans, more as ter Inshun mans."

"Well, Ruffner, to confess the truth, you are about
half right, I must own that the girl has made a deep
impression on my mind, as well as the old man him-
self."

56 - PIONEEB EIFE.

"Py Shupiter, young mans," replied Euffner,
"vood you makes love mit dat tam Inshun vomans?"

"That would altogether depend upon circum-
stances," replied Philip; "but will you accompany
me in 'the adventure?"

' ' Shust as you blease, ' ' replied Euffner.

"Enough," cried Philip, and the two huiaters left
the rock."

CHAPTER XI.

THE CHIEFTAIN AND HIS DAUGHTEB— EAGLE 'S NEST—
THUNDEE STOEM— HEMLOCK PALLS.

' ' A aight of clouds in threatening blackness hung,
O 'er the dark forests of the west, and flung
A fearless gloom upon the trackless woods." — -Lees.

l^rom the external appearance of the old Indian,
Philip cqncluded that he was some noted Chief. He
was evidently well stricken with years. He was re-
markably tall, well built, and apparently very mus-
cular, — ^he was quick in his motions^ firm in his step,
and fiery in his eyes. His proportions were those
of the most exact symmetry, and his general depart-
ment manly and dignified. His dress was of the most
showy character. On his neck he wore a collar of the
most beautiful colors. On each shoulder was a beau-
tiful ornanaented feather, and across his breast in a
diagoijal position, and bound tight to it, was his war
pipe, at least two feet long.

The young woman appeared still more gaudily
attired, and interestingly beautiful, and was as
Philip imagined, a perfect model of perfection.

A strange feeling had entered the young man's
bosom, making him anxious to learn the history of
this interesting couple. He had proposed to his
comrade to follow in pursuit of them, and they were
now on their way.

After starting in pursuit, Philip gave dii'ections
to Euffner to proceed cautiously, and in no case to
discharge his rifle unless attacked.

Proceedings on the trail of the Indians for some
distance without coming Vfx sight of them, they

58 , PIONEEK LIFE.

halted on the banks of a small stream,* whick at
that time was very low. Here all signs of the trail
ended, and the hunters had almost conclnded that
the old man had discovered them, and- had taken
the greater caution to leave no signs of' the trail
behind him. But Philip, who had wandered a short
distance down the banks of the creek, observed a
broken twig on the opposite side. Coming to a halt,
he sat down, awaiting the approach of Euffner, who
shortly after made his appearance on the opposite
side of the riin. Philip joined him by crossing it,
and the two hunters once more entered upon the
trail which led across a broken part of the country. ■•

The sky for some time past had become overcast
with fragmentary clouds, and the occasional peals
of thunder indicated an approaching storm. Still
ouir heroes pursued their way, until they again
struck the banks of the Clear Fork, and after trav-
eling a short distance up the stream, crossed to the
other side.

But the, darkness of the night wa'S now settling
around them, arid a most fearful storm was gather-
ing over them.

The gleaming lightnings were playing, in fearful
corruscations along the dark storm cloud that rose
awfully sublime from the western horizon. As yet
our heroes. had not come in sight of the Indians,
and the increasing darkness, had now prevented
them from following the trail. It was agreed to
abandon the adventure, and seek a shelter from the
stortti. They had proceeded about one mile south of
where they crossed the stream before darkness had
fully set in upon them, and their position was now
upon a high cliff of rocks, known as the "Eagle's

* Since called Switzer's run, which empties into the Clearfork,
a short distance east of Newville.

PIONEER LIFE. ' 59

nest."* Here they determined to remain until the
fury of the storm had subsided. A short distance
in the rear of this cliff was a thick growth of under-
wood, into which they retired, securing their persons
and fire arms as best they could with the "fekins of the
animals they had killed. -

The tempest was now upon them ; and such a
tempest! Heaven and earth seemed clashing to-
gether. Peal after peal of booming thunder burst
from the flaming batteries of heaven.

"Py Shupiter," exclaimed the Dutchman, j'dish
a tevilish pig shtor-^ — ." , Crack went an electric
rocket with the energy of Omnipotence, and in the
same instant a huge oak, standing some distance in
the rear of where they -sat, was shivered to. pieces,
one of which was precipitated within a few feet of
them. It was afearful crash, and for a moment the
two hunters seemed sensibly affected by the shock.
This astounding crash was quickly succeeded by an-
other, and another, though at much greater dis-
tances. Next came the sweeping winds, bearing
down everything in their course. The noise of their
roaring was heard like the heave and swell of the
teinpest tossed ocean, under the desolating energies
of a tropical hurricane. Bain and hail were descend-
ing in such prodigious torrents, as induced our hunt-
ers to conclude that the ' ' Prince and power of the
air" had opened one of the gates of a supernal canal,
through which flowed all the waters of the universe,
— certainly, it was nothing less than a liquid ava-
lanche, sweeping out of the storm clouds of heaven,'
"and the steady roar of the wild war of the elements
^the winds driven rains, hail riven air, flickering,
burning and brightening, with the astounding. thun-

* In those days an old eagle had built her nest upon this cliff,
since which the rock has been called "Eagle's Nest." This rock
rises about 80 feet in perpendicular height, and from its summit
is afforded ii, most magnificent view of the valley of the Clearfork,
for some distance. This cliff is but a part of the high bluffs which
run parallel with the stream.

60 I PiONEEK LIFE. ,'

der crashes and noise of falling trees, mingled in
horrible confusion, echoing with deep repeatings and
muffled reverberations, from hill to hill, suggested
to the romantic young hunter the idea that ten thou-
sand devilx drummers were summoning, with dismal
ToU, a million of fire spirits to the world's conflagra-
tion.

Such was a night tempest on the banks of the
■Clearfork in 1812,* as witnessed and endured by
these two lonely pioneers. '

Philip sat gazing with emotions of mingled awe
and Teverence upon this ' ' elemental war. ' ' He had
never before been, called to witness such a mag-
nificent and terrific atmospheric phenomenon, yet
notwithstanding the dahger to which he was ex-
posed, no considerations Would have induced him
to have foregone this magnificent exhibition of na^
ture. He had often viewed natuire in her moments
of calm repose, had drank deep from the fountains
-oi the hills, and imbibed the spirit of the seques-
tered forest, and now he had, for the first time, seen
. nature in one of her wildest paroxysms.

The winds had now sunk to a gentle gale, the fury
■of the storm had passed over their heads, and th^
•silvery stars were beginning to shine out upon the
high arch of heaven. Our- hunters arose from their
seats, in their humble shelter, which together with
the skins of the animals, had preserved them against
the fury of the rain and hail, and advancing to-
wards the margin of the bluff, gazed in mute aston-
ishment into the fearful abyss below, which thrpugh v.
the darkness of the night appeared the more horri-
ble.

"Vot for noish is dat?" exclaimed Euffner; as his
•ears caught the sound of a continuous roaring in a '
southerly direction from the cliff.

* This storm is yet fresh in the memories o- the earl}' settlers
who are still living. In many places over which it passed its effects
are yet visible.

PIONEEB LIFE. ^ 61

"It is noise of falling water," replied PMlip, w-ho-
had also cangKt the sound as Euffner spoke. "It is-
a cascade in all probability, ' ' repeated he, ' ' and^ I
propose that we direct our course, thither."

"Und, vot you mean py ter gascatf" interrogated
the Dutehman.

"Why," replied Philip, "a little cataract, over
which the water is precipitated."

"Veil, veil, poot I dosh not shtan under vot you
mean py ter catrack mit vauter precepty,' ' said the
Dutchman. "Caji't you shbeak blain vot I knows
mit out your pig vords ? ' '

"Yes, yes," replied Philip, much tickled at the
Dutchman's language. "A cascade or cataract is a
water-fall, or a place where the water rolls over
rocks and falls to the ground."

"Veil, den," replied Ruffner, "ve vill go und see
dish, vot you calls him?"

' ' Cascade, ' ' answered Philip.

"Yaw, dish gascate."

Accordingly the two hunters directed their steps
in the direction of the anticipated waterfall. They
had descended the cliff and entered the valley, lead-
ing in a southerly direction. The nearer they ap-
proached, the more audible became the sound. A
deep and gloomy ravine lay before them, which they
entered, following- it up for some distance. The roar-
ing of the water, echoing in the ravine in the dark-
ness of night, -was quite deafening. A large quan-
in torrents over the broken rocks. After our heroes
had proceeded some distance up the ravine towards-
the falls, they discovered, to their no small astonish-
ment, the faint glimmerings of light shining through
the thick foliage of the trees.

"Py Shupiter," exclaimed the Dutchman, .evident-
ly a little frightened, "ve ish going into a den of
roppers. Dat ish burty tark, tevelish looking blace. ' ^

"A suspicious looking locality," replied Philip,
"but I am anxious to learn its character, and I think

62 PIONEER LIFE.

we can succeed much better now than if we wa,it till
morning. As to this place being inhabited by rob-
bers I have no fears of that. But there niay be a
body of Indians encamping here. If so they will hot
attack us now. Let us proceed cautijansly till we dis-
cover the nature of this light. The adventure may be
dangeros, but the advantage is on our side ; we will
be under cover of darkness, and if we discover the
company to be too numerous, we can i"etreat unnot-
iced. If they are Indians it is evident they do not,
anticipate the approach of an enemy to-night, as they
have their fires burning. ' '

"Veil," replied Euffner, "I ish agreet to any ting
vot you ish," so saying the Dutchman reprimed his
rifle, making all things secure in case of any emerg-
ency. I '

Our heroes now approached, under cover of under^
brush, the place from which the light proceeded. The
noise of the falling water gave them an opportunity
of advancing without being heard. - I'he nearer they
approached the falls, the more apparent the light ap-
peared. After coming within several yards of the
falls, they discovered the light to proceed from be-
hind them, which made the precipitating flood ap-
pear more grand and picturesque. As they halted
here :^oi; a few moments in order to closely scruti-
nize the place, Euffner discovered the huge form of
ah Indian, standing some few feet m advance of him
on a fragment of a rock thdt lay a short distance to
the one side of the cascade.

"Inshun!" exclaimed Euffner,, in a somewhat agi-
tated tone of voice, when instantly the figure was
recognized by Philip also. As Euffner spoke, the
Indian glided behind a rock and was lost to sight.
At first Philip thought that the Indian had hestrd
the voice of Euffner, but then again he knew that
the roar of the falls would not permit the sound of
ten such Voices to become audible from the distance
where he stood, and as to their being discovered,

PIONEEK LIFE. - 63

where they were, under cover of such deep (dark-
ness, it was out of the question. Under these con-
sideratj[6ns, his fears were dismissed, and they still
continued to advance towards the light, .until they
came within ten' steps of the rock upon which they
had seen the Indian. Here they paused, and a con-
sultation was held, in which it was agreed that one
of them should advance upon the rock referred to,
and with the utmost caution examine the place and
discover if possible the position of the Indian. This
adventure was somewhat bold and perilous, and was
undertaken by Philip, while Euffner was to cover
his retreat in case of an attack.

Philip gained .the rock unobserved, and unmo-
lested, when 'to his no small astonishijaent, he dis-
covered the objects of his day's pursuit. There be-
hind the cascade in a spacious cavern.* which ran
some distance under the rock, sat the old Indian and
what Philip now supposed his daughter. Returning
to Euffner he communicated his discovery to him,
when it was agreed upon that both should enter the
cavern at the same 'time, with the butts of their
rifles foremost, so as to create as little alarm as pos-
sible among the Indians. Accordingly they pro-
ceeded boldly to the, rock, when a pierciipig scream
from the young maiden aroused the old man who sat
smoking his pipe with his face turned in an opposite
direction, and springing to his feet, confronted the
two hunters with uplifted tomahawk.

"I am the Indians' friend," exclaimed Philip, ad-
vancing towards the old man_^ith extended hand.
This was enough. The old man dropped his hatchet,
grasped his ' hand, and bid him ' a hearty welcome.
A similar reception awaited the Dutchman.

* This romantic locality has since been denominated ' ' Hemlock
Palls," and is often visited by the young parties. "Pic nic par-
ties," often meet here, and on some occasions, political meetings
are said to have been held here. Thes falls ar surrounded by a
thick growth of hemlock; hence the name "Hemlock Falls."

CHAPTEE XII.

HEMLOCK' PALLS— THE CHIEETAIN AND HIS D'AtfGHTEE.

Compelled by warring eleinents to stay,
> They sought a shelter till the storm was o 'er,

In a dark cavern, on the Clear Pork's shore; ' ^ ■

Par through the gloom extends the peeping light,

Pringing the sable drapery of, night;
' Rushed the rude storm; as waters dashing o^er
^ The cataract, with deep astounding- roar.

"Hemlick Falls," the, place where we left oUr
heroes and the Indian in the preceding chapter, is
situated about two miles south-east of the present
site of Newville. These Falls are indeed most inter-
esting. The water pours over a precipice of about
seventy-five fet in height, leaping from rook to rock ■
until it reaches the bottom, -^hich is strown over
with fragmentary rocks, evidently detached from
the heights above. Upon the top of the bluff, over
which the water descends, stands a large Hemlock
tree, its roots being interwoven with rocks. Viev^^ed
from below, this tree presents a most fearful sight.
It seems to rise upward amidst the clouds, standing
upon a mere point of an overaTching rock. Ascend-
ing this tree, aiid casting your eyes from the top
into the abyss beloWj the view becomes truly horri-
ble, and it requires no ordinary amount of fortitude
to perform the experiment.

These Falls, when viewed under the soft and mel-
low light of the moon, reminds one of the poetic de-
scriptions of the fairy lands, where spirits and 6lves
assemble to hold their nightly festivals in the still
moonlight, which falling upon, and through the
checkered curtain of green, gives enchantment to

PIONEER LIFE. 65

the view. Sucli is but a faint description ^of this
natural curiosity, as it appeared to Philip at the
period of this adventure.

As our hunters entered this cavern, a bright blaz-
ing fire, the light of which falling with an enchant-
ing softness on every object around them, gave the
place an aspect of the most fascinating and dreamy
beauty. Overhanging this arching entrance, and
creeping out of the crevices of the rock above, came
down a thick curtain of wild vines, interlaced and
commingled with luxuriant honey suckles with their
bright colored blossoms, fringing the front of the
cave" on either side of the falls.

But the most beautiful sight which met the visi,on
of the young man, was the young Indian maiden.
Her eyes met his as he entered the cavern, revealing
to him as he imagined, a hidden wold of brightness
and sunshine.

"Old man," said Philip, after the party had sur-
rounded the fire. "I hope we have not given you
any offense by our intrusion here."

"None whatever," replied he in broken English,
"this place is as much the property of the white-
man as of the Indian. The Great Spirit whom the
christians call God, has created the white man as
well as the Indian, granting both the right to be
free and unmolested in the pursuit of happiness."

"Venerable man," interrogated Philip, "are you
in possession of the character of the christian's
God?"

"I am," answered the old man, and taking from
his bosom q, copy of the New Testament, presented
it to Philip, saying— "here, sir, is a transcript of
the character of the only object, worthy of our
adoration." , '

"From whence did you derive a knowldeg of let-
ters?" inquired Philip.

"Sir," replied the Indian, "I am indebted to the
Moravian Missionaries for all I know respecting the

66 . PIONEER LIFE.

English language and the Bible. I belong to the
Delaware tribe, which once inhabited the entire val-
ley of the Schuylkill, but being driven from that lo-
cality by the whites, they crossed the Allegheny
mountains, and settled down along the Muskingum
river. In an early period of my life. Christian Mis-
sionaries* came among us ; we threw down our
hatchets, and submitted ourselves to their instruc-
tions ; among the number of their converts was my-
self."

"But," enquired Pl;iilip, "may I ask you, have
you always carried out the precepts of this Book?"

"No, sir," frankly replied the old man;" after
the murder of my brethren! by Col. Williamson, I
took up the hatchet against the whites, and re-
mained their inveterate foe till the treaty of Green-
vills.t This book tells me to return good for evil,
but I have returned evil for evil. I have taken the
lives of many, but these days are past, I have hearti-
ly repented of my wickedness, and shall do so no
more."

"Well," replied Philip, "I will frankly confess
that your race has ben shamefully wronged by the
whites; and as to the action of Col, Williamson, in
the murder referred to, our people universally exe-
crate it."

"That may all be true," replied the old man,
"but what action did your government take against
the man himself? None. He was a murder er^a
base murderer. The blood of nearly one hundred
men, woman and children, is this day crying against
him from the village of Gnad^nhutten, and among

* The Moravian Missionaries made their appearance in Ohio as
early as 1761 and '62. Rev's. Post, Haokwild«r and Zeisberger
were among the first.

t Gnadenhutten Indians in 1782.

t In 1795.

' PIONEER LIFE. 67

that number were those bound to me by the dearest
associations."*

As the old man concluded this reply Philip
thought he detected emotions of grief within his
bosom, and he therefore determined to change the
conversation to some other topic. Philip had ob-
served during the conversation, that the eyes of the
maiden had frequently been cast upon him, and he
imagined a peculiar meaning in her bewitching
glances. Changing the conversation he remarked,
"this locality is really^ romantic. "

"Yes," replied the old man," there is not another
such spot along this stream."

"None like it that I have seen," answered the
young man. ' ' But it has been suggested to my mind
that this locality might have been the theatre of
some important event connected with the history of
Indian life."

"Your suggestion," replied the old man, "is not
unfounded. This place, to myself at least, will ever
be held in sad remembrance. ' '

' ' Ah I indeed, ' ' replied Philip, ' ' then some disas-
trous event has' occurred here, in bygone years, the
memory of which yet cast a gloom over your mind."

"Nay, not immediately here," replied the old man,
"but some few miles distant; though this place
stands somewhat connected with this horrible tra-
gedy."

In a moment Philip's mind turned to the cliff on
which he had seen him in the afternoon, and feinxious
to learn the particulars of this eveijt, he thus ad-
dressed the old Indian:

* It is but due to the cause of truth to state here, that but few
instances are left on record in which a white man has been tried
and executed for the murder of an Indian. Col. Johnson says that
in a period of 53 yeElrs; since he came to the west, he never knew
but one instance, in which" a white man was tried, convicted and
executed for the murder of an Indian. The murder of Summum,de-
wat and his family, (who were Methodist Converts,) while on a
hunting excursion in Hancock Co., in 1845, is evidence of this fact.
The murderers, three whites, were permitted to escape from prison.

68 PIONEEE LIFE.

"Venerable Sir, it would afford me the most ex-
alted pleasure to learn the history of your life, and
particularly the incidents of the memorable event
to which you refer. There is nothing which affords
me more pleasure than to learn wisdom and instruc-
tion at the feet of those whose observation and ex-
perience entitles them to the vocation of instructors
of youth. Sir, I am now fully convinced that true
philosophy is only obtained through observation and
experience. And in case it would not be derogatory
to your feelings, a history of your life, and the
events connected with it would be a source of infinite
satisfaction to myself, and prove an acceptable and
instructive offering to my race."

"At present, young n^an," replied the old Indian,
I am not prepared to give you a positive answer. If
you have no objections we will retire to rest, and
in the morning I shall be prepared to answer you
fully." . ■ ,

Accordingly the parties lay down to. rest. But it
was sonie time before Philip could fall asleep. The
noise of the falling water, sounding in his ears, kept
him awake for some time, during which his thoughts
would occasionally turn to the Indian girl.

Morning came. Day light had spread her rosy
wings over the forest, and the mingled melodies of
the woodland minstrels were floating upon the morn-
ing air.

Philip and his comrade had risen, and were about
to step ouside of the cavern to view this romantic
spot by the, light of day, when a loud and piercing
shriek once more rang through the cavern. All eyes
were turned towards the girl, and in an instant the
object of her alarm was visible.

' ' Curse the snakes, ' ' cried Philip, at the same mo-
ment discharging his rifle, and burying its contents
in the head of an enormous rattlesnake, which lay
coiled up ready to spring upon the young woman.
The animal was solitary and alone, and probably

PIONBEE LIFE. ' 69

had taken refuge there during the night, having been
attracted by the light of the fire. He had, in all
probability, made up his mind to spend that stormy
evening with our heroes, and passing by the heads
of the sleepers, and not wishing to disturb their
pleasant dreams, had coiled himself up to rest in
the further end of the cavern. But Philip had a soul
above snakes, and no sooner did the monster pre-
pare to give battle, than the heroic and snake-hat-
ing Philip came down upon his huge snakeship with
a mighty crash, sending his bewildered spirit to
join those of his species, which he had dispatched on
a previous occasion.

"Young, man," said the Indian, "you are some
in a snake fight."

"Veil, tinks he is," replied the Dutchman; "you
should shust have seen him not more longer ago as
lay pefore ter l^sht tay, von ter shnakes were ticker
as ter fleas on ter tog's pack."

The odd expressions of the Dutchman had dis-
turbed the gravity of the old Indian, and it was
"with difficulty that the young maiden could suppress
a loud paroxism of merriment.

The two hunters now stepped outside the cavern,
on purpose to take a more definite view of the falls,
which appeared more beautiful, and less gloomy and
awful, than when they had first seen them.

"Young man," said the old Indian, after Philip
had returned, ' ' you requested me yesterday evening
to giv6 you a history of my life and the incidents
pertaining to the tragical event spoken of. I am
now prepared to comply with your request. But in
order to make the history of, the event more impres-
sive, I propose that you and your companion accom-
pany me to a certain locality not far distant from
this, where I will relate to you all the particulars'."

To this Philip readily consented, well knowing the
place to which he alluded; and after partaking of
some venison and corn bread, the whole party set

70 , ■ ' PIONEEE LIFE.

out for the cliffs, where they arrived about the mid-
dle of the forenoon.

In a few moments our hunters with the two In-
dians were all seated upon the same rock on which
they had sat the preceeding day. The 'old man then
commenced his story, i:elating every particular as
it came in turn. His language was broken, yet per-
fectly intelligible. And as his narrative is of a highly
interesting character, and confirmed by the testi-
mony of history we have no doubt, but a transcript
of it would be acceptable to the reader.

CHAPTER XIII.

CAPT. PIPE.

In this romantic region of the West,

Dwelt the poor Indian — nature's fearless child,

The rightful tenant of this native wood —

Where roams he now? Far in the spectre laud of setting sun.

"Our tribe," commenced tlie ol^ man," many-
years ago, inhabited the Valley of the Schuylkill,,
away towards the rising sun. It was a lovely region.
The bright waters of this beautiful stream, rolled
between banks studded with the most charming flow-
ers. Here our forefathers lived for many years, un-
disturbed and unmolested, until the white man came
among them. Then arose quarrels, and many were
murdered on both sides. At length our fathers were
overpowered, and forced to leave their hunting
grounds, their wigwams, and the graves of their
fathers. They then emigrated to the Valley of the
Susquehanna, and from thence across the AUeghe-
nies to Ohio, settling down in the Valley of the Mus-
kingum. I was but a small boy at the time. Soon
after we came to this region, Christian Missionaries
came among us. They established three stations on
the Tuscarawas Eiver. The names of these stations
or villages were Shoenbrun, Gnaddenhutten, and Sa-
lem. They all stood in beautiful locations. It was
here that, I first learned the true character of the
G-reat Spirit. The efforts of the Missionaries were
paving the way for the civilization of our race.
While at this station my father and mother both died
in the Christian faith. Shortly after this sad event
a war broke out between the American white people

72 PIONEEE LIFE.

and the English. When my parents died I was
about 18 years of age, and with a* sister younger
than tnyself were the only members of the family
living. Immediately after the death of our parents, ,
my sister and myself, in company with several oth-
ers, left Grnadenhutten for the village of Wappato-
mica,* on the Muskingum. Here we lived for some
time, passing the time away in hunting and fishing.

About the commencement of, or a short time be-
for the Eevolutionary War, a party of whites came
upon us to give us battle. We had been apprised of
their approach the day before the engagement:
About 50 of our warriors met them about six miles
from the village. As soon as the army came up to
where we lay, (being in ambush,) we fired upon them,
and had the satisfaction of seeing several of them
fall. We then attempted to retreat across the river,
but were prevented by tlie white sentinels. We fin-
ally succeeded in escaping with our women and chil-
dren from the village ; when the soldiers entered it,
they set fire to it and burnt it down ; and then pro-
ceeding to other villages, set them also on fire, the
inhabitants have previously escaped into the woods.!

As soon as the army had left our country we re-
turned to our towns, but only to find them in ruins.
The sight of our deserted and desolate villages made
us frantic with rage. We vowed vengeance. We
asked ourselves the question what had we done to
merit such inhuman treatment? We were peaceable
and friendly disposed, pursuing our avocation of
huntings and fishing and molesting no one.

At this time I was young and fiery; I feared no
danger, and despised cowardice, and I determined
to life the hatchet in defence of my country. — My
sister having married a young warrior, I now had

* This village stood about 16 miles bel9W the present site of
Coshocton.

+ This expedition was under the command of Col. Agnes McDon-
ald by order of Lord Duumore, Gov. of Virginia in 1774.

PIONEEE LIFE.

73

no one to claim my particular attention, and I re-
solved to enter the battle field, and distinguish my-
self as a warrior.

After leaving the Muskingum, I bent my steps to-
wards the Sciota Valley. Here were several Indian
villages belonging to the Shawnees. These towns
were situated in the most delightful country I had
ever seen. Shortly after the burning of the villages
along the Muskingum, another expedition was fitted
out for the purpose of destroying our villages on the
Sciota. A large army of whites made their appear-
ance at the mouth of the Kanawha; having left our
towns on the Sciota, we met their forces at this place.
A battle ensued, and many were killed on both sides ;
but, finding that we were going to be overpowered,
our chiefs sued for peace. Accordingly the troops
were ordered to Camp Charlotte, where the principal
Chiefs of the Sciota tribes met them and negotiated
a peace. There was one Chief however, who refused
to enter into this treaty. This was Logan. After
this treaty I left the Sciota for the Sandusky coun-
try, and was soon placed at the head of a party of
young warriors. Ours was a scouting party, and we
determined to wreak our vengeance on every party
of white soldiers we met. Passing by a short inter-
val of some six or seven years, in which nothing of
much importance occurred, I now come to an event
in the history of our race, which for inhumanity and
cold blooded barbarism stands unparalleled in the
history of Indian wrongs. I refer to the murder of
Gnadenhutten Indians. From -that day to the treaty
of Grreenville I was an inveterate foe to the whites.
I was in the battle of St. Clair's defeat and also in
the battle of the Miama of the Lakes, where Gen.
Wayne so nobly distin^ished himself. We thought
there never was such an other man as Wayne. Our
warriors stood in awe of him. After the treaty of
Greenville I came to this region of Ohio, where I
have remained ever since.

74 PIONEER LIFE. ,

A few years after niy sister and myself left Gna-
denhutten for the Muskingmum, she married a yoTing
warrior named "Round Head" and on hearing of
the murder of the Gnadenhutten Indians, she and
her husband and one child at her breast, in company
with several others left for the "Sandusky Coun-
try." On their way thither they halted upon this
ledge of rocks, and Were seated where we now set,
when they were fired upon by a party of whites.*
killing my sister and her child, and slightly wound-
ing two others. The ball had passed through the
Ijodies of both mother and child, and springing to
to her feet, she fell headlong over this cliff among
the rocks below, a lifeless corpse. The others es-
caped, and after retreating some distance, remained
in ambush till night, when they reconnnoitered the
country around the rocks, for some distance, but
finding no signs of their encampment, they ap-
proach the cliffs, and found both the mother and
child scalped. Then pressing onvaird they arrived
in the Sandusky Country, a few days afterward,
bringing me the sad news of my sister's death. This
inhuman outrage increased my hatred still more
against the white race.

The bodies of both mother and child lie buried
among these rocks, but the place where they lie must
remain unknown to the white man. This locality is
indeed sacred to me, and before leaving this coun-
try, perhaps forever, I determined to visit the spot,
in connection with the cave in which you found us,
where my sister and her husband had encamped the
night previous to her deathj In that cavern, she
slept her last earthly sleep. In a few weeks, or per-
haps days, I shall leave this region, and in all prob-
ability I shall never again be permitted to visit it.

* It is supposed that this murder was committed by a party of
Scouts, belonging to Col. Broadhead's expedition against the vil-
lages of the Forks of the Muskingum, known as the "Coshocton
Campaign" in the summer of I780.

PIONEER LIFE. 75

li , ■ ' '

This is my history, and I am now done. Philip was
deeply interested in the old man's history, during
the recital of which the eyes of the Indian were most-
ly fixed upon him. The young maiden too was seen
to cast upon him occasional enquiring glances. In
some parts of the narrative she seemed deeply af-
fected. When the old Indian had finished his story
he arose f roiti his seat for the purpose of continuing
his journey, motioning to the young lady to follow
him.

"One more question," exclaimed Philip, seeing
the old man about to retire," "your name, if you
please V '

"They call me Capt. Pipe," answered he, mildly,

"Whatl.Oapt. Pipe, of Jer(^meville ? " enquired
the astonished young hunter.

* * The same, sir, ' ' answered the Indian. ' ' My name
is Capt. Pipe, and this young lady is my adopted
daughter. ' '

"And is it possible," exclaimed the young man,
that I have had the honor of conversing with so dis-
tinguished a Chieftain as Capt. Pipe? I have often
heard you, sir, spoken of .as one of the bravest In-
dian warriors that ever marched into a field of bat-
tle. It would afford me much pleasure, sir, to con-
tinue my acquaintance with you."
' "Young man," replied the Chieftain, "the cabin
of Capt. Pipe is ever open to the reception of the
white man. I am now ,his friend, and if you should
pass by my cabin without caling upon me, I should
feel that you were unworthy of my respect."

"Captain," answered Philip, "it will give me the
greatest amount of pleasure to call upon you, and
since you have thrown down the hatchet, and placed
yourself under the protection of the white race, I
for one shall forget the past, and defend your
rights."

The old man grasped the hand of Philip, a tear

76 PIONEER LIFE.

stood in his eye, and after gazing upon him for a
moment, evidently much affected, he said :

' ' Young man, you are an honor to your race. May
the Great Spirit be your protector. The blessing of
■Captain Pipe ]be upon your head. I shall expect to
see you at my cabin before I leave this region."

"You shall not be disappointed," replied Philip,.
and the parties separated. The old man and his
daughter descending the cliff were soon lost to sight
in the deep forest, leaving the two hunters to pur-
sue their journey alone.

"EufiPner," said Philip, after they had gone a
•short distance homeward, "I have had some strange
ihoughts since seeing those two Indians. There is,
in my opinion, somp mystery connected with their
history, especially that of the young woman. She is
•certainly a handsome Indian to say the least of her. ' '

"Veil, I tinks you ish a shtrange feller, anyhow,
always shbeaken your tarn- foolishness mit tese red
tevils. Ven dat puggar vos shbeaken apout Ms tarn
tidoes mit his little axes on ter vite beobles, I vos so
tam mad as I could be mit out shumpin oop und town
and drampen out his tam eyes out?'

"All! but Martin," replied Philip, "he is a poor
Indian, he and his people have been wronged, and
he is now a friend to the whites and will defend their
jqause. ' '

"Vel, veil, dat ish drue — dat ish drue, und I
•shpose ve must inspect him for dish," said the
Dutchman, in a somewhat softer, tone of voice, "he
ish now a conspeshun from the sheneral rule, I dosh
not like dese Inshuns, I tink ter are more of tem
tam rascals, as more vot aint."

"That is true," replied Philip, "but this old fel-
low must be an exception in our hostility to the race.
And as for that beautiful girl no man, friend or
foe, shall harm a hair of her head ; besides, Martin,
I have come to the conclusion to pay the old Chief a
visit and inform myself as to her origin. Don't you

PIONEEK LIFE, 77

remember lie said she was his adopted daughter.
There' is some meaning in this."
■ " Vot ter tevil is ter matter mit your prains now,"'
ejaculated the Dutchman, "shposen he did say
'topted taghter,' irot of dat."

"Why Martin," said Philip, "I have thought,,
from that, that she is not of Indian origin."

"Vot you mean py ter orishun," enq^hired the
Dutchman, with a- vacant stare.

"Why I mean," said Philip, "that she is a white
girl."

"A vite gal!" crued Euffner, looking at the young-
man with no little astonishment, and evidently, doubt-
ing, his sanity — "a vite gall," repeated he, "my Cot,.
for vot you ta,lk so tarn foolish? A vite gall mit an
Inshun face! Der ish about as much vite gall in
dis Inshun voman, as der ish vater in ter pottomless
pit!"

"Well," replied Philip, "every one to their own
opinion, as the saying is; and I have no objection,.
Martin, to you enjoying yours; but I am almost
positive, that there is not a drop of Indian blood in
her body."

Here the conversation of the hunters respecting'
the girl ended, and they continued their way through
the forest, meeting with nothing of interest until
they arrived at the cabin of Mr. Seymour, some time-
in the afternoon.

Great was the rejoicing of the family on their en-
tering the cabin, as during their absence they had
felt no little uneasiness concerning them. Kate par-
ticularly, had had an unpleasant dream, in whi^h she
had seen them writhing in the agonies of death under
the tomahawk and scalping knife.

As soon as the hunters had arrived, Kate com-
menced the preparation of an evening meal, which
was completed in a short time ; and when they had
satisfied the demands of their appetites, Philip re-
lated the particulars of their hunting, adventure.

78 , PIONEER LIFEi

He gave Kate a full description of the old Indian
and his daughter, representing the latter as the per-
sonification of beauty and loveliness.

"How much I should love to see that forest flower
of yours, ' ' said Kate, after hearing Philip 's descrip-
tion of her personal cha,rms. "Indeed," continued
she, "if your representation be correct, I should be
proud to -own her as a sts^er." -

"Thank you, Kate, thank you for such words of
encouragement, ' ' said Philip in ecstacy. * ' I am cer-
tain you would love her, for she is singulai'ly beau-
tiful. Her voice is sweeter than the sweetest strains
of the. ^olian harp of Grecian fable, and her move-
ments are graceful and easy. I tell you, Kate, she is
a mysterious being."

"And so, the old Chief gave you an invitation to
visit him in his cabin. How I should enjoy such a
visit," said Kate playfully.

"No gratification shall be denied you sipter, re-
plied Philip, "if in my power to satisfy your de-
sires."

"Thank you, brother, " replied the affectionate sis-
ter, and the conversation was broken by the entrance
of the notable Johnny Appleseed.

CHAPTER XIV.

HOME SCENES.

'■'Each poor conceited mortal has his failing,
And I have mine — can 't mend it much by railing. ' '

Johnny Appleseed had not forgotten to visit the
cabin of Mr. Seymour every evening during the ab-
sence of Philip. Not knowing that the young hunter
had returned home, he had come as usual to spend
the evening with the family."

"Well, Mr. Chapman," said Philip, after bidding
him a good evening and a hearty welcome, " " I sup-
pose by this time you have converted the whole fam-
ily, and particularly your favorite, Sister Kato,
whose heart you know is soft and tender, and sus-
ceptible of receiving Divine impressions."

The eyes of both Kate and Johnny were fixed upon
the young man as he spoke, and both were about to
reply, but Kate gave way, and Johnny proceeded.

"Young man," said he, in a sedate and serious
manner, "I would to God that your heart was only
half as soft as your head, then would I indulge the
cheering anticipation of your conversation also."

Phliip fairly sunk under this cutting rejoinder and
Kate gave vent to a hearty laugh. The Dutchman,
too, seemed highly pleased, while Philip smiled, evi-
dently " dumfounded."

"Mr. Shapman," said the Dutchman, "I tinks as
how you ish mishdaken, in ter young mans. Dere
ish a great shange in the fellow^-hissen heart ish
soft enough since you shbeaked mit him in ter
voods."

80 PIONEER LIFE.

Johnny,, not knowing of Philip's interview with
the old Chieftain and his daughter, and supposing
that the admonition he had given him in the woods,
at their last interview had been ' ' seed sown in good
ground," came to the conclusion that a religious
change had really been effected in the young man's
heart, and wishing to offer him every encourage-
ment, mildly replied:

"Well, since your heart is made the object of Di-
vine influence, young man, I fondly hope you will
grow in grace, day by day, until you become a nurs-
ing father in the Israel of this forest."

Philip's mind during the admonition had wandered
back 'io the rock on which he had found the lovely
Indiaft maiden, and for a moment was lost in reflec-
tion, but on hearing his name associated with that of
'Father/ roared out in a most vociferous manner :

' ' What the thunder does all this mean ? Who calls
me a 'father in Israel!' "

, Kate, seeing the ludicrous position of Philip, and
the astounding looks of Johnny, who stood gazing
upon the confused young man, unable to comprehend
his meaning — indulged in a hearty laugh, while Euff-
ner, with a peculiar twinkle of his mirth provoking
eyes, replied:

"Mr. Shapman, ter young man's heart is vorking
unter a great shange. Dis shange has peen on ter
feller since he seen ter anshel in ter cave."

"Ah!" replied Johnny, "and so young man, you
have had a spiritual visitation? Well "

"But before he had time to finish his sentence,
Philip sprang to his feet exclaiming:

"Enough, enough, Martin, I acknowledge myself
beaten." Then turning to Johnny, he gave him a
brief account of the adventure with the old Chief-
tain and his daughter.

"Ah! indeed," said Johnny, after hearing Philip's
account of the two Indians. "That old man is an

PIONEBK LIFE. / ' 81

konor to Ms race. A more kind hearted and peace-
able man is no where to be found. , I have lodged
with, him many a night, and have enjoyed myself
most agreeably in his company. And as to his daugh-
ter, she is one sweet child, fit for a King's wife."

' ' Mr. Chapman, ' ' said Philip, after listening with
no little delight at Johnny's eulogium upon the old
man and his daughter, 'if I had no other evidence
of your piety and sincerity, your high -regard for
that young woman would be sufficient, for no man
can appreciate her virtues, who is not himself a vir-
tuous being.

It was with much delight that Johnny heard Philip
speak thus in favor of at least one of this poor, de-
graded and much abused race of people, as he sup-
posed they were.

' ' Philip, ' ' said he, I am glad your mind is really
undergoing a change respecting this people, and I
hope yet to find in you an advocate of their rights."

"Mr. Chapman," replied Philip, "my views of
Indian character have not undergone any change ; I
look up this people now as I have always done. They
are cruel and treacherous; but I am free to ac-
knowledge these traits or dispositions are the ef-
fects of example, set them by the whiles."

" Shentlemans, " replied -Euffner, "every toob
shtands oopon his own pottoms, and I tinks mine ish
no vorse, if I does not likes ter preed; an Inshun
is an Inshun, do vot you blease niit him. ' '

"This feeling, Mr. Ruffner," replied Johnny, "is
sensual, carnal and sinful, and peculiar to all unre-
generated minds."

"And so you are acquainted with Capt. Pipe and
his beautiful daughter?" enquired Philip, wishing
to change the subject of their, conversation.

' ' Yes, ' ' replied Johnny, ' ' I know them well. I
often call upon them, and always receive a hearty
welcome. The old man is religiously inclined, an(J

82 PIONEER LIFE.

possesses an amiable disposition, though under deep
provoca,ti6n, he is fearful. As to his daughter, I have
.thought that there was some hidden mystery con-
'nected with her history! She is not his real daugh-
ter, but as to her origin il have nothing definite."
r "Well," said Philip, "the old man has invited me
to pay him a visit, and if possible, I intend to get
her true history."

" I am f ^rful, ' ' replied Johnny, ' 'that you will not
succeed; though ther^ is no telling for a certainty'
till you try."

"Well," replied Philip, "you may rest assured
that I will certainly endeavor to find out all that I
can about the young woman's history." Whereupon i'
the conversation respecting the adventure was
brought to a close, and other topics pertaining to a
wilderness life were discussed, in which Johnny Ap-
pleseed acted a conspicuous part.

An arrangement had ' also been made between
Philip and the Dutchman to visit the cabin of Capt.
Pipe in a few days.

It was sonietime after nightfall before the com-
pany retired to rest. The conversation had been
both amusing and interesting, and the whole com-
pany felt loth to separate.

The shades of night had passed away, and the
light of another morning was streaming in upon the
forest, before-^the inmates of the cabin had all arose
from their slumber. Kate, however, had been up
for some timie. She was on all occasions an early i
riser, and on this morning being awakened by the
mingled melodies of the early songsters, she had
arisen before any of the inma,tes, and was pouring
forth the melody of her own sweet voice to mingle
with that of the fathered minstrels.

"The voice of an angel," cried Jojmny Apple- ,
seed, as the music of Kate fell upon his ear, arous-
ing him from his slumber. Johnny had evidently

' " PIONEER LIFE. 83

been dreaming of heaven, and had mistaken the voice
of Kate for that of an angel. Spring from his bed
he dressed himself, and went down stairs, where he
found the family all astir. Presently Kate made her
appearance, with a pail of milk in each hand,' and
passing the cabin door bid Johnny a good morning,
and continued her way to the spring, \i^hile the deep
forest around her echoed the sweet music qf her
voice.

"Mr. Seymour," gaid Johnny, addressing Philip,
* ' I would that your heart was as pure and innocent
as that angelic sister of yours. Ah! sir, heaven is
m&de up of such beings, arid if you should unfortun-
ately miss that place, you will miss the company of
such angels."

, ' "Well, Mr. Chapman," replied Philip, "if that
country is mostly made up of women, I shall cer-
tainly try and get there, for I most assuredly love
their company."

"But," replied Johnny, "your love must not be
carnal, it must be spiritual. And to be spiritually
minded you must be changed from nature to grace."

Here Johnny took the advantage of giving the
young man and Euffrier a lengthy exortation, in
which he appealed to their judgment and moral feel-
ings, on the subject of their spiritual interests. The
two hunters did Johnny the honor or giving nim a
respectful hearing. In the mean time Kate had been
preparing their morning meal, and just as Johnny
was about finishing his admonition, and' spiritual
counsel, breakfast wals announced, Breakfast over,
the company separated, Euffner and Billy to their
cabin, and Johnny to his home in the woods.

CHAPTEE XV.

' CAPT. PIPE^BTJRNING OF CBAWPOED— LILY PIPE.

"Now ample mead; and fields of waving grain,
In golden color shine, where once
The Chieftain's cabin stood.'' — Anonymous.

As Capt. Pipe has been introduced in a preceding
chapter, it is necessary here to break the chain of our
story in order to give the reader some additional
particulars of his history. . ,

■ Capt. Pipe was a resident of Richland County.
He had a most beautiful daughter, who was the only
companion of his cabin. As already remarked, he
was in his youth a noted warrior, having distin-'
giiishedr him self as such in several famous battles.

The Captain's residence up to the year 1812, wa?
one mile south of Jeromeville, near the trail leadiiig
to Mansfield. At this time h^ was a Chief of a tribe
of Delawares, whose village stood near the present
village of Jeromeville in Ashland County.

The personal appearance of this distinguished
Chieftain, has already been given, as well as a brief
history of his early life, as revealed to our hunters,
by himself, which has never before been published

It may not be uninteresting to state in connection
with the above that this Chieftain, in company with
a British officer named Elliott, and an Indian Chief
named Pimocah^ visited the Tuscarawas Indians in
the fall previous to their murder by Col. Williamson,
and induced them to leave their villages, and throw
themselves under the protection of the British Grbv-
ernment. Some of them however returning in the
early part of the following spring to gather in their

PIONEER LIFE. 85

corn, were ^surprised and cruelly butcliered by that
inhuman monster.

This bloody affair enraged the already highly ex-
asperated Chieftain, and he vowed vengeance. In a
few months afterwards an opportunity offered itself .
An expedition under the command of Col. Crawford,
was fitted out to destroy the Moravian Villages
along the Sandusky.. The object of the expedition
was one of extermination. (No quarter was to be
given; but a general massacre of nien, woman and
children were the standing orders of the army. The
expedition was unsuccessful. The Indians were
aroused to the highest pitch of indignation, and they
flocked around their Chiefs in vast numbers. Capt.
Pipe and another Chief named Wingenund were the
two leading spirits in this enterprise. Col. Crawford
was taken prisoner, and suffered a most horible
death at the stake. Crawford 's trail to the Sandusky
led through Richland County. The spot where Col.
Crawford suffered, according to Col. John Johnson,
was a few miles from Upper Sandusky, on the old
trail leading to the Big Spring, Wyandot Town. It
was on the right bank of the trail, going west, on a
bottom of the east bank of the Tymoctee Creek.
The notorious Simon Girty was present during the
burning of Cal. Crawford, and witnessed his horrible
sufferings with a savage delight. . It is stated, how-
ever, that Girty offered to purchase the prisoner
from the Indians for three hundred and fifty dollars.
— But Pipe considered the proposition a high insult,
and replied, with a scowl of indignatiin on his coun-
tenance, "Sir, do you think I am a squaw! If you
say one word more on this subject, I will make a
stake- for you, and burn you along with the pris-
oner."*

Some time after the Treaty of Greenville, Capt.

* This information was derived from the Wyandot Indians, by
Mr. Joseph McCutchefl, and published in the "American Pioneer."

86 I PIONEER LIFE.

Pipe rempved to the waters of the Black F^rk, where
he remained a friend of the whites. His cabin, ac-
cording to the testimony of the early settlers, was
always open to the white men.

The daughter of Ca,pt. Pipe, as she was supposed
to be, wais exceedingly beautiful. She was often so-
licited in marriage by young Indian warriors, but
refused every offer. A young Chief of noble birth
and commanding talents had paid her a \isit, on
purpose to solicit her hand ; she rejected him, where-
upon the' young man poisoned himeslf with the May
Apple.

Such is a brief history, of this very remarkable
man. At one time has was the inveterate foe of the
whites, but at the close of his life their best -friend.
In the consideration of this man's character we must
bear in mind the provocations which were offered
him in the murder of his early associates and rela-
tions. The blackest j^age in his history is the'burn-
ing of Crawford, which was done in retaliation of
the murder of the Moravian Indians. In speaking of
this affair, Capt. Pipe often declared that in case
the Indians had captured Williamson who accom-
panied him on this expedition, the life of Crawford
would have been spared. In fact, Wingenund, who
had previously been Crawford's friend, was so
moved at his horrible situation that he retired from
the scene of his sufferings shedding tears.!

' t We state this fact upon the authority of the historian, Heoke-
wilder.

' CHAPTER XVI.

PHILIP IN LOyE.

"She is more delicate in form and face,
More beautiful than maids of Indian race,
Her winning smiles, with fascinatihg power;
Lit up her features in the joyous hour."

Towards the close of the day in which Euffner and
Johnny Appleseed had left the cabin of Mr. Sey-
mour, Pl^ilip- and his sister strolled away a short
distance from the cabin, and seated themselves on
a beautiful green bank near the water's edge. The
evening was mild and pleasant; and the shade cool
and refreshing., ,

"Kate," said Philip, after they had been seated,
"you are my only sister, and I feel that without your
■company, this wild forest would, indeed, be a deso-
late place ; but I must own that dear as you are to
me, there is another no less interesting."

"The young squaw," said Ka4;e, smiling, "well, if
what you say be true, (and I cannot doubt your
word,) she certainly must be an attractive Indian
girl."

, "Nay, Kate, she is no Indian girl," replied Philip,
"you niay rest assured of that. There is an expres-
sion in her cotintenance* which is not peculiar to the
Indian race; at least I have seen no other Indian
women in possession of the same peculiarly marked
characteristics.

"Ah! but for all that, Philip," replied Kate,
"may sl;ie not possess some Indian blood at least."

"Nay, nay," replied Philip, Somewhat confused,
"I cannot bring my mind to believe that there is one

88 PIONEEB LIFE.

drop in her veins. There is soni,ething within my
bosom which prompts me to say she is purely Anglo
Saxon. She is so unlike all that constitutes a savage
nature, that it is impossible for her to be of Indian
origin. One glance at her love speaking eyes, would
be sufficient to convince you that the girl is no sav-
age, at least."

"Well," replied Kate, "you have aroused within
me a spirit of curiosity, and a strong desire to see
this mysterious being."

"Your desire shall be granted, and your curiosity
satisfied," replied Philip; "and tten, dear sister,
.you will say with me, that there is a fountain of love
and sunshine in her pure heart, where the spirit of
kindness ever plays upon its depths — a hidden treas-
ure, which kings might covet, and which the rude ,
hand of death itself cannot destroy."

"Then you really love the girl?" asked Kate. ,

"Love her!" ejaculated Philip, "yes, as the wild
deer loves the cool ^hade, and the bee the tinted
blossom . Earth may pass away, or her body may
perish like the broken wild flower, but her soul of
love and sunshine will triumphantly soar to those
bright realms, where death cannot enter to over-
shadow with his dark and cheerless pall ; and let me
say to you, Kate, that I shall follow that incarnate
spirit of love, through sphere after sphere, in its
'upward flight through the great circle of eternity, as
the shadow upon the wave follows the snow white sea
bird over the world of watars. — And I feel free to
say still further, that were I transplanted to a land
whose beauty as far surpasses the loveliness of
Eden, as the unseen magnificence of eternal day sur-
passes the gloom of Tartarus, yet without the com-
pany of that more than mortal being, I could never
be happy."

"Heigh ho," replied Kate, "what rhapsody!—

■pfOBTEEK LIFE. 89

One more flight like that, and I am doubtful whether
you will get back: again;"

"Kate," replied the love stricken hero, "I admit
that to you my language may appear rhapsodical-,
but out of the abundance of the heart the mouth
speakethi';' But we have talked too long already.
It is now time to return."

The sun had indeed already decended behind the
distant hills, and twilgiht dews were falling fast, as
Kate Seymour and Philip arose fro mtheir seats
and retraced their steps to the cabin.

Several days had passed away before Euffner and
Billy again made their appearance at the Seymour
cabin, during which Philip had neither heard or seen
tliem. The time appointed for them to meet him
at his calDin had arrived, and all eyes were watch-
ing their approach.' It was late in the evening be-
fore they made their appearance, which was hailed
with delight by the whole\ family.

Aaother night had passed away and another beau-
tiful summer nlorning had smiled upon the wilder-
ness, and preparations were being made to pay a
visit to Capt, Pipe and his daughter.

' ' Billy, ' ' said Philip, ' ' do you think you are back-
woodsman .enough to guatd the old folks against the
assault of a hundred savages, provided such an
event such occur during our absence?"

"Thirtainly, thir, thirtainly," eagerly responded
Billy, in his own vernacular.

"Well," enquired Philip, "let us know in case of
such an attack, where you would first commence the
firing?"

"At^the Inthuns, thir, dod blast yer, of course.
Do you thing, thii", that I am thsuch a tarnal fool,
thir, as to thoot the folks inthide the house."

"No,' no, Billy," replied Philip, "I have not the
least idea that you would shoot any of the family, I
merely wanted to know if you would stand inside
of the cabin and shoot out?" .

90 ^ PIONEEK LIFE.

"Now thir," responded Billy, "thats a tevil of a
question to ask a thinsible man like mythelf. Do
you thuppose, thir, that I would sthtand outthide
and thoot inthide?"

"Enough Billy, enough," said Philip, "you are
just the man for this undertaking, and I am proud
to tell you that I consider the old folks just as safe
in your hands, as in my own."

"Yeth thir, I think tho mythelf, and in cathe of
an attack from thnakes, I thall thirtainly dith-
tingish mythelf fully ath well ath your honor."

"Dat ish a tevil from a poy," said the Dutchman,
no little amused at Billy's wit, "poot he ish unter
my destructions, und dish vill account for his vit."

The hour for starting had now arrived, and the
trio set out upon their journey, Kate was seated
upon a jet black popy, belonging to Philip. The
party started from the cabin under the most lively
emotions. Philip and Ruffner were on foot and
under arms. Thus they continued their jourjjey
until the cabin of Capt. Pipe lay in sight, the first
glimpse of which sent a singular sensation into the
young hunter's heart. In a few moments more the
company halted before the cabin door. Capt. Pipe
had discovered them when some distance in the
forest,' and had announced their approach to his
daughter who hastily prepared the cabin for their
reception.

As soon as the party came up to the door, Capt.
Pipe and Lilly met them, and bid them a hearty wel-
come. The maiden sprang to the' assistance of Katfe
who had dismounted from her pony, and without ■
the formality of an introduction, ushered her into
the cabin, while Capt. Pipe and the two hunters, se-
cured her animal in a small enclosure in the rear,
and then entered the cabin also.

CHAPTEE XVII. '

I CAPTAIN PIPE AT HOME.

"The pliant moeeasins her feet embraced
She made herself with wonderous skill and taste,,
Bedecked with what the traders could supply,
Rare ornaments and bonds of various dye."

The cabin of Captain Pipe, like most Indian cab-
ins, stood in a location beautifully wild and roman-
tic. Everything around it gave evidence of its pro-
prietor's being in a considerable degree under the
influence of civilization. A few agricultural imple-
ments and domestic animals, showed that the Captain
was really a farmer ; and the appearance of his-
little garden, over which his daughter presided, was
most pleasingly contrasted with the wild forest
around it.

But if neatness and order characterized the out-
side of the Indian cot, so as to excite the admiration
of the visitors, a more grand and imposing scene
presented itself within. The inside was ornamented
with the most beautiful feathers and flowers, ar-
ranged in such regularity and order as to produce
the most pleasing effect. ,

But in the midest of these there was a living-
moving flower, "the fairest of them all," and on
Avhom the eyes of the astonished beholders were
transfixed. This fair flower was the Indian maiden.
There she sat by the side of the old man, attired in
light and graceful robes o:l^ azure and white orna-
mented with various colors of embroidery. A band-
age of sparkling gems of contrasted colors, sur-
rounded her 'hea,d, while her jet black hair fell in
glossy ringlets. around her shoulders. Another, seti

92

PIONEER LIFE.

with brilliants, surrounded her neck. Her feet were
encased in richly; colored moccasins, highly orna-
mented with different figures wrought out of beads.
Pendant from her ears were two massive gold ear
rings, and several of the same metal surrounded her
fingers.

Such was the Captain's daughter, as she appeared
to our party on the morning of their visit to her
cabin. Kate and Philip gazed upon her with emo-
tions of interest. They had not expected to find
such beauty and luxury in a wilderness so wild, and
anaong its savage inhabitants.

But Capt. Pipe was not a savage ; he had thrown
away his savage life, and adopted the ma;xims and
religion of the whites. He had learned to read and
write, and had instructed his daughter as far as
he was -able.

The reader is fully aware that in an early day
missionary schools were established among the In-
dians, and in this way many -of the Indians were
taught the doctrines of the Bible, and the principles
of civilization. Captaih Pipe was among this num-
ber, and as soon as his daughter was old enough he
commenced teaching her these principles;" this, to-
gether with the instructions she receives from the
white settlers, who called at her father's cabin, had
its effect in moulding her mind in the principles of -
virtue and refinement. This Indian nlaiden was one
of Johnny Apples^ed's pupils, and he took the ut-
most care in 'teaching her to read and write.

It was not Qommon in those days to find books
in a savage's cabin, but had the reader been with
our little party on this occasion, they would* have
seen the Bible and several ' other works, some of
which he would have suspicioned as being left there
by the good hearted Johnny Appleseed.

With this understanding the reader, will not be
at a loss to know how the Indian maiden became so
attractive.

PIONEER LIFE. 93

A's' soon as the Chieftain and the two htinters haid
joined Kate and the Indian girl in the cabin, the
whole company entered into a lengthy conversation
upon different subjects, the particulars of which it
is not necessary here to repeat. After .conversing
awhile thus, the Chieftain requested the two hunt-
ers to accompany him a short distance from the
cabin, under a pleasant shade. Here the party sat
down, and the old man opened the conversation.

"Children," said he, "I am an old man; my head
is covered wth age. I shall soon go to the spirit
land. I have been a man of blood, but then I was a
savage, and full of vengeance. Then I hated your
race, and wreaked my vengeance on your people.
There is one act in my life which above all others,
I now lament the most. This act was the burning of
the misguided and unfortunate Col. Crawford. The
recollection of this man's, horrible sufferings is yet
vivid in my mind, nor will I harrow up your feelings
by a recital of the particulars of this brutal affair.
It is enough to tell you that I am guilty of his blood.
But I hope the Great Spirit has forgiven me this
wrong. For some days after the commission of this
crime, my mind was much troubled, and savage as
I was, I felt that his punishment was too severe.
But this with many other of my cruelties is past,
and I turn to the present. I am now the white man's
friend, as are many others of my race; but there
are a great many of my kind who are yet your invet-
erate foes. There are some of these now living close
to your cabin. I refer to the Greentown Indians
under Captain Armstrong, their Chief. It is among
Indians as among white people — there are always
bad ones.

"And now, young man," addressing Philip, "I
am glad to be able to do you a kindness, by impart-
inging to you some inlformation" which you should
know, and which you should profit by.

It is known to the Indians around you that your

94 PIONEER LIFE.

father is a rich man, and has considerable money
in his cabin, and I am afraid it has entered into the
hearts of some of them to obtain that money. I will
tell you why I apprehend such an event.

"One day while in the woods hunting, I overheard
a conversation of a party of the Greentown Indiatis
in which the carrying out of this act was agreed upon
in case of the slightest provocation from any of the
settlers. I am afraid the present war will breed dif-
ficulty in this neighborhood. Tecumseh is stirring
up hatred between the Indians and the bor4er set-
tlers, and I think the influence of this bad man is
felt in this ifegion. For my part, while I remain
'here, which will only be a short time longer, I shall
apprise the settlers of any impending danger I may
discover. Tecumseh has made application to me to
join his ranks, but I refused him with scorn, and
the haughty chief has vowed vengeance upon me — "

"Venerable sir," said Philip, with much warmth,
* ' an insult offered upon your person, either by Te-
cumseh or' his allies, shall meet instant retaliation."

"But," continued the old man, "I shall place my-
self out of the reach of my foes ; and when the war
IS over, I shall again return to this region, where I
hope to lay my b'ones with those of my friends."

"God grant that your latter end, may be peaceful
and happy," replied Philip feelingly.

"And now, young man," added the Chieftain,
"you must watch well your premises, especially if
ydu hear of any provocation, or disturbance among
the Indians."

"I shall profit by your admonition," said Philip,
"and am under lasting obligations to you for this
hint in time. But I hav6 one more question to ask
you, an answer to which will settle a mystery hang-
ing over my mind. ^ I would know the origin of that
adopted daughter of yours?"

Here the Chieftain gazed upon the young man for
a moment, with an enquiring glance and then broke

PIONEER LIFE. 95

the silence by asking him, "why he should know her
origin?"

"Because," said Philip, "I am somewhat inter-
ested in her future well-being."

"And what if she were of Indian extraction, would
that lessen your interest in her future happiness?"

"By- no means," replied Philip, "but if any
change at all would be produced, it would be in her
favor. But, I am of the opinion that that girl is of
white origin. I am .almost certaiuvshe is,"

' ' It would grieve me, sir, to have you disappointed
in your most sanguine expectations, and^"

"Nay, nay," replied Philip, before the old man
could finish his sentence, "do not say so, I feel that
she is a kin to my race. The pure and imrdortal
spirit that looks through those radiant eyes claims
kindred to a higher and holier race bf beings than
either white or red savages."

"And would you' cast any insinuation upon her
pure and spotless life because she was born of In-
dian parents?" answered the old man pathetically.

"i hope," replied Philip, "that I have not wound-
ed your feelings, by saying that your race in its wild
and savage state is low and unholy. I meant no in-
sult; I only spoke of it, in its crude and savage
state; and that, too, in connection with a similar
condition of my own race, which is known to exist
in many parts of the world, I firmly believe in the
unity of the human race, or that all mankind sprang
from the same original stock."

' ' Your explanation is satisfactory, and I may free-
ly state to you that the young woman is of white
origin,"

' ' I knew it ! I knew it ! " exclaimed Philip in ecsta-
cy. "I knew that a being so. unlike anything I had
seen among your race, could not have her origin
there. And now, how jjiuch I would like to know her
history; it must indeed be most interesting."

"Young man," replied the Chieftain, "the ways

96 PIONBEB LIFE.

of Providence are mysterious; and we are some-
times lost to account for His peculiar dealings to-
wards us. The history of the maiden is shrouded in
mystery to all but myself.. She is supposed to be
my daughter, and is called "Lilly Pipe." Her In-
dian name is "OnisMsha," which means "handsome
looman." She is a particular favorite of a white man
named Jonathan Chapman, who has taken milch
pains in instructing her in matters of religion. ' '

"But," enquired Philip, "can you not give me
a history of the young woman?"

"Ah!',' replied the old man,- placing his finger
upon his mouth, "my lips are sealed.. I am under
the most solemn obligation to keep this matter a
profound secret."

"And then must I infer," said Philip, "that there
can be no possibility of obtaining this information?"

"Not at present," replied the Chieftain.

"And must Lilly forever remain ignorant of her
origin, and the names of her parents," enquired the
young man, much disappointed.

"No, no," replied the old man, "the nature of
my obligation is su6h that the true facts relative to
her history may be communicated to her."

"But in case you are suddenly called away by
death, then this knowledge would be forever lost,"
said Philip, thoughtfully.

"Nay, nay, young man, give yourself no uneasir
ness about that matter, all will be right," said the
old man, ' ' and into the hands of him, who shall call
Lilly his lawful wife, shall be place'd her full his-
tory. "

"Enough," said Phiip, "I will press the subject
no further. See, it is, drawing towards night; and
we must away. The startling intelligence which you
have given me respecting the intended robbery has
created an uneasiness in my mind, and I am anxious
to be gone."

"It would give me much pleasure," said the

PIONEER LIFE, 97

Chief tain, "to have your company longer, but you
must consult your own feelings as to that."

"Thank you," said Philip, "I shall see you
again. ' '

"Grod grant it," said the old man, and the com-
pany started for the cabin, where after partaking
of the old man's hospitalities they started for home.
Before separating, however, Lilly had placed a valu-
able gold ring upon Kate's finger, while Kate in re-
turn presented Lilly with a beautiful wrought neck-
lace, which she had worn on the occasion.

The parting was indeed most affecting. Kate and
Lilly stood -for some moments with clasped hands
and streaming eyes. Then came that mournful word
"farewfill." The old man shook the hand of each
visitor with fondness, and the company parted.

After traveling some distance, Euffner broke the
silence which had thus far attended them. "Dat ish
von'tevil from a burty gall," said he, "I'll pe tam
if she vont make a coot vife for a vite beople."

' ' She is a remarkably handsome girl, ' ' said Kate.
' ' Her equal I have never seen. It is a pity she can-
not be persuaded to leave the wigwam and take up
her residence among the whites."

"Did you speak to her upon the subject?" asked
Philip.

"And does she refuse to leave the tribe?" asked
Philip.

"WelV replied Kate, "I think she does not wish
to leave while the old man is living.' Though she ex-
pressed a wish to die among the whites. And I
really believe, brother Philip, that she has taken
some notion of you, as she spoke to me highly ap-
plauding your gallantry ; and using her own expres-
sion, she denominated y6u a 'hrave young war-
rior.' "

"Dat ish a fact," said the Dutchman, "he ish ter
pravest man among ter shnakes in ter yide world."

"Go to thunder with your snakes," replied Philip.

98 PIONEEB LIFE.

"But tell me, Kate, do you think the young woman
could be persuaded to take up her residence among
the whites?"

"I cannot positively say," replied Kate, "but if
there is any person who could persuade her to do
so," continued she smiling, "you are undoubtedly
that person."

"Well," said Philip, "she's an interesting girl,
and des'erves a better fate than that which awaits

her in the wigwam." ■

, The sun was just shedding; his last lingering rays
upon the distant hill tops as the party neared the
cabin of Mr. Seymour. Billy met the party in the
yard, joyfully exclaiming:!

"AH thsafe gthentlemen^sthep in — no alarm
from ingthens or thsnakes thince you left."

''Thank you, Billy, thank you," said the smiling
Kate, as she stepped into the cabin to greet her par-
ents, and relate the day's adventure.

Euffner and Billy then left, and proceeded througtj
the forest to their cabin, and after relating the inter-
view with the Indian -and his daughter, the family
retired to bed. But it was late at night before the
young man fell into a sound sleep. His mind was
agitated on two sul)jects. First that which referred
to the contemplated robbery, and secondly that of
enticing the Indian girl to leave the haunts of sav-
age life, and take up her residence among the whites,
or in plainer terms if tlie reader please, with him-
self. Philip said nothing to the family concerning
the robbery, but prevailed upon his father to bury
the money* in the cellar, alleging that it was a much
safer place, than inside the cabin.

In a few days after the interview with the old
Indian and his daughter, as related in the chapter
preceding, the settlements of the Black Fork were

* Mr. Wesly Oopus informed the writer that Mr. Seymour was
in the popsession of a considerable amount ,of money, but how much
he could not tell.

EIONEEE LIFE. 99

•

thrown into the utmost consternation, by hearing of
the surrender of General Hull. News came flying in
all directions that Hull had surrendered his army,
and that the Indians and British were destroying
everything before them — that large bands of ma-
rauding Indians were scouting the wilderness in all
directions, plundering and murdering the defenceless
settlers. The panic which this intelligence created
in the minds of the settlers was truly fearful. Moth-
ers clasped their little ones to their bosoms, with
palpitating hearts and fearful apprehensions.

"To the Block Houses!— to the Block Houses!"
was the cry in every quarter, and the affrighted
inhabitants obeyed the summons. Philip vaihiy en-
deavored to persuade his father to remove to a place
of safety. The old man protested against the timely
warning of his son, stating that it was unnecessary
—that he had wronged no on* and no one would at-
tempt to wrong him. Philip then related to the old
man what the old Chieftain had. told him concerning
the murder. . But all to no purpose. The old man
persisted in* staying in his cabin.

On this occasion Johnny Appleseed distinguished
himself as a "swift messenger," traveling day and
night, bare-headed and bare-footed, warning the in-
habitants of the approaching danger. ' He visited
•every cabin within his route, from the Black Fork to
Mt. Vernon, exclaiming, "the Spirit of the Lord is
upon me, and he hath anointed me to blow the trum-
pet in the wilderness, and sound an alarm in the
forest, for behold the tribes of the heathen are round
about your doors, and a devouring flame foUoweth
after them."*

It was ^.scertained however in a few days after-
wards, that the alarm was unfounded, and that the
.British ancj the Indians had enough of work to do
in the region of the Lakes, and this surrender was

* This; fact was received from Mr. Jonathan Ohjfield, to whom
' Johnny made his appearance on the octasion.

100 PIONEEB LIFE.

immediately followed by a series of splendid naval
victories. , -

But the cheiering news tliat followed the alarm; did
"not relax the energy of the settlers in constructing
houses of safety. They Occupied a dangerous posi-
tion, being in the wilderness, and in the midst of In-
dians, and knowing that the least provocation from
the whites would be sure to arouse their vengeance,
they continued their efforts until a sufficient number
of such houses were erected.

Immediately after the surrender of Hull, the .Je-
romeville Indians left tl^e country for Cleveland, .
where they threw themselves under the protection
of the United States Grovernment.

We would here remark, that at this period there
was a permanent garrison stationed here under Ma-
joT Jessup of the U. S. Army. It was the depot of
supplies and rendezvous for troops. Here Captaia
Pipe 'and his daughter arrived in safety, where we
propose to leave them for a while and notice the
events which took place on the banks- of the Black
Fork, a short time after their departfli,re from Je-
roHieville.

CHAPTER XVIII.

WAR WITH GREAT BRITAIN— THE COPUS SETTLEMENT-
VILLAGE OF GREENTOWN. '

Let them take the last look at the grass covered grave
Where rests the remains of their forefathers brave.
The hills and the valleys — the dark waving woods,
The murmuring bVooks and the broad rolling floods,
The bold massy rocks which environ the shore
Where the bright waters dance or the wild torrents roar.
Bid a lasting farewell to each family spot,
And fly to where destiny fixes their lot. — Lee's;

In order that the reader may have a fair and full
understanding of the events which we now propose
to narrate, it will be necessary to deviate somewhat
from the thread of our story, in this chapter.

The reader is aware that at the period of which
we write, a war was being carried on between the
United States and Great Britain. As ,to the cause
of this war, we have nothing to say, as we are not
writing its history. We would remark, however, that
it was attended with much suffering and misery to
the early settlers, especially those exposed to its
immediate ravages. And here we beg the indulg-
ence of the reader to express our disapprobation to
war of all kinds, other than that waged upon strictly
moral principles. We look upo^ wars in which the
lives of individuals are sacrificed as impolitic, an'd
ruinous to government — as the greatest curse which
can befall any nation or people.

At least the unanimous voice of the settlers of
Eichland County, during the last war, would have
borne testimony to our position.

Among the suffering portions of our State, dur-

102 PIONEER LIFE.

ing the campaign, Bichland County may be enum-
erated. At this period the County contained but few-
white inhabitants, a,nd,the present thriving City of
Mansfield consisted of two or three log cabins. In
fact, the Northern part of the State was almost a
perfect wilderness. There were only about forty
laid out Counties, many of which were not yet or-
ganized, among which was Richland. At this early
day, (August, 1812,) no Block Houses were yet erect-
ed in Mansfield. There were several,- however, in the
County, as already hinted.' One of these was on the
Clear Fork of Mohican; one at Beam's Old Mill,
(now Campbell's Mill,) on the Eocky Fork; one
where Ganges now stands ; besides a picketed house
on the Black Fork, owned by Thomas Coulter.

There was a settlement on the Black Fork of Mo-
hiban, known in that day as the' Copus Settlement;
called after one James Copus, who with his wife and
seven children had emigrated from the State of
Pennsylvania, and settled on the banks of the Black
Fork, as early as the year 1809. He was the first
actual settler on the Black Fork. He was, shortly
afterwards, followed by others, among whom were
the Seymour family, already mentioned; a Mr. Lam-
bright and family ; a Mr. Hill and family, with some
others not recollected. These families constituted
the Black Fork, or "Copus Settlement," as it was
then, called. This settlement is about three and a
half miles east of the present site of Lucas, and
about the same distance from Mifflin, or Peters-
burgh, as it is now called. About two and a half
miles north of Mr.- Copus' cabin stood that of Mr.
Seymour, and about one and a half mile further
north stood that of Mr. Lanibright. The cabin of
Mi". Hill stood where Lucas now stands.

About two and a half miles south of the cabin of
Mr. Copus stood an Indian village, named Green-
town, which consisted of sixty cabins, with a Council
House about sixty feet long and tw;enty-five feet

PIONEER L,IFE. 103

broad. The Indians were of the Delaware tribe, and
their chief was named "Zeshauau," or James Arm-
strong. These Indians were friendly, and to a great
degree under the influence of Christianity and civili-
zation; and up to the commencement of the war
they' had preserved an unbroken friendship. They
would, in their hunting excursions, ofteij call at the
cabins of the white settlers, and pass the "weary
hours away" in conversation and sporting exercises.
The village of Greentown was Situated in a pleas-
ant location, near the banks of the creek. The In-
dians had selected this spot on account of the ro^
mantic scenery which surrounded it. It is said by
those who visited it at this period, that a more lovely
spot was no whej"e to be found. Here had these red
sons of the forest lived for years, in the full enjoy-
ment of their natural rights, and under what they
supposed, the protection of the United States L3,ws.
But as the sequel will show a most shameful and out-
rageous wrong was practiced upon them.

CHAPTEE XIX.

CAPTUKE AND BURNING OF GBEENTOWN.

AH things were ready at the appointed hour
They marched, (intent on doing violence,)
■ To where the village stood: And in the grandeur awful.
Mingling with the passing clouds the curling smoke arose.

Towards the middle of a hot and sultry day in
the month of August, 18X2, a party of soldiers under

the command of Captain , who was stationed at

the Block Hoitse at 'Beams 's old mill, halted in front
of the cabin of Mr. James Copus. Mr. C. politely in-
vited the Captain and his soldiers into the cabin,
where *after being seated, the officer and Mr. C. en-
tered into the following conversation:

"Mr Copus," said the Captain, ''I have been in-
formed that you are on terms of friendship with a
tribe of Indians now inhabiting a small village not
far from your residence, called Greentown ; and I
have called upon you expressly to solicit your com-
pany and influence, in my present visit to these In-
dians." , ■- .

"And pray, Caj)tain B., what is the object of your
visit to the Indians? if the question be a fair one."

"Why, sir," replied the Captain, "I am under the
instructions of my superior officers, to call upon
those savages and prevail upon them to quit their
village immediately, throw down their arms, and
place themselves under my protection, till they can
be taken to a place of safety."

"But, sir," said Mr. C, mildly, "in case these
people refuse to acknowledge youx jurisdiction over
them, how then will you proceed ? ' *

PIONEER LIFE. 105

-"How then will 'I proceed!" retorted the some-
what agitated officer., "Why, sir, I will proceed to
drive them into siibmission at the point of the
sword."

"Biit," calmly replied Mr. C, "are you not aware
that these poor creatures are the proprietors of the
soil — ^here is their village^their hunting ground, and
the graves of their sires^— here along these green
banks, and in these shady forests, these people have
lived tot years, until their minds are cemented. to
this spot by the dearest associations — here the
young hunter wooed his dusky maid, and whispered
in her ears his tsLle of love, and sung, and danced
and mused the passing hours away ; and would you
so ruthlessly tear these poor helpless and confiding
creatures, from such endearing associations'? Let,
I beseech you, the sympathies of human nature, if
not the principles of Christianity, plead in their be-
half."

"Sir," replied the stern and unmoved officer, "I
come not here to engage in questions pertaining to
moral science. My business is to carry out the in-
structions of my superior officers, and not the prin-
ciples of any man's religious faith. You, sir, I am
told, are a Minster of the Gospel, and you are at
liberty to officiate in that capacity. Government does
not compel you to take up arms and act in the ca-
pacity of a soldier, neither do I. I only require
your influence in persuading the people to quit their
village till the close of the war. This certainly can
be no violation of your faith. And in case they re-
fuse to comply, you shall be exonerated, and I shall
assume the responsibility to drive them away at the
point, of the sword."

"Well," said Mr. C, "I cannot get the consent
of my mind tp co-operate with you in your mission.
I have preached liberty to this people, and have
pointed them to ours as tlie best ^government under
the sun, and shall I betray myself by influence to

106 PIONEBE LIFE.

deprive them of that liberty which I have said is
their birth right?" v

"Well," replied the officer, "there is but two ways
for me to proceed— either to persuade you to comply
with my request, or arrest ydu as a traitor to the
government. If I fail in the first I shall not iij the
alternative."

This was spoken with much firmness and apparent
determination. Mr. C. paused for a moment, in
which his mind seemed greatly agitated. At length
he replied:

"Sir, I go, and the blood of this affair be upon
your own head. ' '

"The responsibility, sir, is mine, and you shall
be exempt from all consequences, ' ' and in a few mo-
ments the company left the cabin for Greeniown.'

Mr. James Copus was a Minister of the Gospel,
and was esteemed and respected aS such by all who
knew him. The Indians had the greatest confidence
in him. He had often preached to them, and had
exerted a salutary influence over them. It is not
singular then that he should refuse to belie his pro-
fession.. But whether Mr;, Copus did wrong or not
in complying with the demand of the officer, the
reader must judge for himself. If there be circum-
stances in life in which one cannot act as he would
desire, this probably inay be considered one of them.

In a short time after leaving the cabin the ofiScer
and the soldiers came in sight of the village, en-
camping a short distance from the town. A mes-
senger was then dispatched to the Chief, requesting
his presence at the camp. The Chief collected a
few of his warriors and hastened to the officer, who
thus addressed hinl:

"Sir, in accordance with the instructions received
from my superior officers, I am authorized to request
you and your warriors to lay down your arms and
throw yourself un/3er my protection. A due regard
shall be paid to the safety of your persons and prop-

PIONEER LIFE. ' 107

erty till the close of the present war. A refusal to
comply with this demand will subject you and your
tribe with instant death, and your village shall be
burnt to ashes. I have brought your white friend
here, Mr. Copus, to witness this treaty. In him you
have the greatest confidence, and he will assure you
that though contrary to his or your will, my instruc-
tions must be carried out."

"Captain," said the chief tremblingly,* "I will
call a council of my warriors and return you an an-
swer immediately." Accordingly a council was
called, in which the matter was briefly discussed, and
an answer returned in the course of an hour, stating"
that they had unanimously agreed to submission.

The villagers now commenced gathering up what
movable property they could conveniently carry with
them, and after arranging it for transportation, set
out on their line of march for the garrison on the
Lake.

Hard indeed must have been that trial — bidding
farewell to what in life was most endearing. They
had not proceeded far however when casting their
eyes behind them they saw a dense cloud of smoke
curling among the forest trees. In a moment their
suspicions were aroused,"but they were most solemn-
ly informed that their property should be protected.
But they felt confident that the smoke arose from
their burning village. For awhile the Indians stood
gazing, upon the curling volumes, as they rolled
heavenward, black, with vengeance, and seemingly
calling upon the G;reat Spirit to witness the perfidy.

"Captain," said the Chief as he stood transfixed
upon the spot, "I have reposed the most implicit
confidence in your honor and integrity — you have
promised protection to our persons and property,

* Mr. Wesl^x Copus, son of James Copus, njw living on- the
Black Fork, who' was present at this interview, assured the writer
that a more pitiable object he never witnessed — that' the old chief
was thrown into a paroxysm of the deepest nervous agitation. To
use his language, 'he trembled from he^d to. foot. '

108 PIONEEB LIFE.

and I am afraid that promise is broken. I submitted
myself and tribe under your protection, and the more
readily by reason of the influence of Mr. Copus. We
kre now without arms, and in your power, but I de-
mand that we know the cause of those volumes of
smoke. ' ' Whereupon the Captain dispatched a mes-
senger back to the village to ascertain the cause.

It will be recollected that a part of the company
"were l6ft to protect the village* until the balance of
the property could be removed to a place of safety.
But after the officer had preceded some two or three
miles with his prisoners the company in charge of
the village set it on fire.

In a short time after the messengers left, he re-
turned bearing the sad intelligence to the Indians
that their village was now burning to the ground.
This sad' news fell upon the banished villagers like
the shades of death upon the lonely pilgrim in a
"desert land.

Thoughts of former years rose fresh in their mem-
•ories.. Here they lived, and upon those banks and
along that beautiful stream they had spent theii;
youthful days. Before the white man had disputed
their claims, they were "monarchs of alLthey sur-
veyed." Then above them glittered the starry
decked heavens, the bright and glorious home of the
'Great Spirit-^then above their wigwams rolled the
Durning sun, in whose effulgent glories they. beheld
■a personification of that Great Spirit, who had been
-their guardian and protector in all the vicissitudes
of life — they had' gazed with admiration upon
the soft and melow light, of "Luna, the queen of
night," as she rode up her gorgeous pathway of
stars, and then they had imagined that for them
alone all these things were brought into being.

But now a sad change had come over them. Those
days had fled forever, and for the las^time they had
mingled in each others society in this, the home of
their youth. The sun had arisen for the last time

PIONEEB LIFE. 109*

upon their forest wigwams, and now they had bid the
graves of their sires a final farewell.

Now to a people, who for generations past, had
been accustomed to the unmolested possession of
the wilderness, and .the unobstructed freedom and
right of roaming at pleasure through their own hunt-
ing grounds, a sudden uprising of a contrary power,,
brought against them in a manner so treacherous
and violent, could not fail to arouse in them a spirit
of retaliation, for

"Violence can never longer sleep,
Than human passion please. In every heart
Are sown the seeds that kindle flrey war.
Occasion needs but fan them and they blaze. ' '

That "occasion was now woven in this inhuman
outrage ; and the provocation was rendered the more
, flagrant, from the consideration that a solemn pro-
tection was offered to their property, on condition
of peaceable submission. But this promise was
shamefully violated, and they now considered them-
selves under no legal restrains, and on that ground
i^ej vowed a most horrible retaliation.!

CHAPTER XX.

MUBDER OF THE SEYMOUR FAMILY— DEATH OF THE
HEROIC RUFFNER.

" Hark! that thrilling sound,

The wrathful warriors cleave him to -the earth,
Behold his blood! The hunter 's bleeding form
Lies mangled on the ground -"

A few days after the burning of Grreentown, a
party of Indians was discovered sitting upon a small
elevation of land, bordering upon a little lake re-
fered to in a preceding chapter. The discovery was
none other than "Bunt Billy," of whom we have al-
ready spoken. It apears that the Indians had rec-
ognized Billy almost in the same inst&nt that he had
discovered them. Billy at first attempted to run
away ; but the Indians called upon him to stop, tell-
ing him that they would not hurt him, whereupon he
halted, and the Indians came up to him in a most
friendly manner", ciallihg him "good hoy." •

"Do you know a family by the name of Seynaour,
living near here?" asked a tall and fierce looking
savage.

"Yeth thir, I geth thso," said Billy.

"Do you think they are at home?" asked the sav-
age.

"Can't thay thactly thir, but I thulppoth, ath how
they are, ' ' said Billy.

"Do you, know a man by thp name of Ruffner?"
interrogated the same savage.

"Yeth thir," said Billy, "but I'd thay to you thir,
not to put yourthelf in his road. He ith a perfect,
devil thir, when he ith not in a good humor."

PIDJTEEK LIFE. Ill

"All right," said the savage, and Billy hastened
home to inform Euffner of his disco vety. Instantly
the Dutchman called to mind the Chieftain's warn-
ing, and taking his rifle in hand, set out immediately
in pursuit of the savages., Believing from what Billy
said that they would make directly for the Seymour
cabin, Euffner followed after in hot pursuit, and
soon struck their trail, which he followed cautiously
for some distance, until he came in sight of the In-
dians unperceived. They were all seated upon the
trunk of a fallen tree, apparently very busily en-
gaged in conversation. Euffner had af)proached
within fifty yards of where they sat ; but he could get
no nearer without being discovered.

"Now, py Shupiter!" mentally exclaimed the
Dutchman, ' ' desh are von tam good for netting look-
ing puggar, und if I had von more as myself, ve vood
make some voolf pait mit ter tam Inshun shkins."

Euffner endeavored to catch the sound of their lan-
guage, but it was too feeble. They spoke in a low
tone of voice, and he could not hear the first syllable,
but from their gestur.es and motions, he was fully
satisfied that they were concocting some deed of
death. He had supposed from the direction of their
tralil that they had been to the burnt down village,
and were returning to the white settlement to avenge
the insult.

After they had thus discussed together for^ a few
moments, they suddenly sprang to their feet, and.
casting their eyes around them in all directions,
started off in the direction of the Seymour cabin, fol-
lowed by the daring and intrepid Dutchman, who
kept himself far enough in the rear, so as not to be
discoverd by them. In a short time they came in
sight of the cabin, when they once more halted for
a moment, then emerging from the woods entered the
clearing and thence the cabin door, where they were
joined by Euffner in a few moments afterwards. The
savages were no little surprised on beholding the un-

112 ' PIONEER LIFE.

expeclted Dutchman, and cast upon each other an
enquiring look. On their entry they appeared friend-
ly, shaking hands with the whole family. Nor were
the family in any wise alarmed, as the visitation of
Indians was no rare occurence. But the sudden
change produced in their looks, as Euffner entered,
aroused the suspicions of Philip, who recalled to
memory the chieftain '-s warning. Euffner had" also
detected the change and he bent his piercing, eyes',
full of vengeance, upon the savages. His look' was
bloody and'fearful, and the savages seemed awed on
beholding'his wrath swollen countenance.

It was evident from the looks and actions of the
Indians that they were somewhat disappointed—
they had not expected' to see others than the family
in the cabin. In the meantime the unsuspecting good
hearted Kate had spread for them the table ; but they
refused to partake of her hospitalities. They still
sat sullen and gloomy.

Euffner, thinking that they would not dare to
attack the family while he was in the cabin, insisted
upon Philip, as he was the most fleet pn foot, to
gather up some of the settlers, and bring. them to the
cabin, and take the Indians prisoners. Philip imme-
diately left the cabin and hastened through the for-
est in search of aid. It was late in the afternoon
when the young man started, and it was more than
two miles to the nearest settler.

As soon as Philip had left the cabin, Euffner no-
ticed another change in the countenances of the sav-
ages. They cast upon each other significant glances,
as much as to say, he is gone for aid and now is our
time. The family now for the first time since the
entrance of the Indians, had become alarmed. It.
was now unmistakably evident that a fearful and
bloody conflict was arising. Sorrow and sadness
gathered over the i^inds of the terrified parents and
daughter ; but the gallant Euffner sat eyeing the

PIONEER LIFE. 113

savages, heedless of Ms own destiny and only anx-
ious for the safety of the family.

He alone was unmoved and unterrified by fear.
The savages evidently looked upon him with no little
dread, and indeed with some hesitation, as to com-
mencing the attack in his presence.

A deep death like silence now reigned in that lone-
ly forest cabin. In the bosom of five enraged and
stalwart savages were burning the fires of hell ready
to consume the affrighted family ; while on the other
hand a fearless and generous hearted pioneer, who
had left the peaceful cabin hearth, to risk his life in
defending the aged and innocent, sat eyeing his
bloody foes with an unfaltering determination to
conquer or die in the effort. Oh ! what a world of
conflicting emotions were passing through the minds
of foes and friends as they sat in desperate silence at
this gloomy moment.

That silence was most horrible! The eyes of the
interpid Euffner was riveted with a fixed stare upon
the savages. Kate could no longer endure this death-
ly gloom. Advancing towards the gallant Dutchman,
with trembling step and palpitating heart, exclaimed
in tones of despair : ' ' Oh ! My God ! Mr. Euffner, we
shall all be murdered."

Euffner, who had sat eyeing the savages with a
tiger's look, sprang to his feet, on hearing the touch-
ing lamentation of Kate, and with a bosom heaving
with rage, exclaimed in a voice of thunder:

"Imps of hell, vot pizzness have you here, shump
from dis blace in vo^ leetle minute, or py tam, as I
vill shkin you alive, and send your erd spirits to
shoin your plack prodders in ter pit of hell."

This awful denunciation, like the sudden and ap-
palling thunder crash, sent a thrill of terror in their
savage hearts, and for a moment the savages seemed
tjompletely awe stricken; and had the Dutchman at
this moment made an assault upon their bodies, his
victory would have been most complete.

114 PIONEER LIFE.

The savages on recovering from this momentary
panic, rallied, and th^ attack commenced. A rush
was made upon the Dutchman with upUfted toma-
hawks, when discharging his rifle at' the foremost,
who fell a bleeding corpse at his feet ; and instantly
clubbing his rifle he dealt out several blows upon the
savages and another Indian lay prostrate upon the
floor ; but in the act of raising his rifle for another
assault, it struck the joice above his head, and tlie
blow was arrested ; the Indians taking advantage of
this misfortune fired upon him, and the gallant Ruff-
ner fell to rise no more. Two balls had pierced
his body, both of which were fatal. The Indians
dragged the dying hero into the yard, where they
performed their -last bloody deed, the taking of his
scalp.

We now turn to the condition of the family during
this bloody struggle. In the commencement of the
conflict, Kate fainted and fell to the floor, where she
lay until the savages had murdered Ruffner. -On re-
gaining her senses, and seeing the savages standing
around her with their bloody knives, and the reeking
scalp of Ruffner in their hands, she uttered a pierc-
ing shriek, and again fell senseless to the floor. The^
Indians next turned their attention to the aged cou-
ple, who ^sat like living statutes, gazing with a va-
cant stare upon the bloody scene around them. The^
had lost all power of speech and locomotion, stunned}
shocked, and completely bewildered. They were very
old and infirm, and of course could afford no assist-
ance in the defence.

Advancing to where they sat, the cruel savages
dealt each a blow with a tomahawk, and they too fell
writhing in the agonies of death. A few struggles
and their sufferings on earth were ended.

As yet the poor affrighted Hate had not returned
to consciousness ; but lay upon that bloody cabin
floor, unconscious of the awful and soul-chilling
scene around her, and over her senseless body these

PIONEEK LIFE. 115

unfeeling savages held a council of death, in which
it was agreed that after her return to consciousness,
and after she had delivered up to them the old man's
money she should also be murdered. But it was dif-
ficult for some time, during the council to get any
one to perform the deed. Kate was a beautiful girl,
and thfe Indians, blood thirsty as they were,felt loathe
to commit a deed so dreadful on a creature so beau-
tiful. 'At length one consented. "Me got big heart
— me kill white squaw," said this human brute.*

Kate was aroused to consciousness, and for a mo-
ment she stood gazing around her in deiep bewilder-
ment. " Oh ! God of Mercy ! ' ' said she, ' ' am I dream-
ing or is this a horrible reality ?,' ' then fixing her eyes
upon the prostrate forms of her mangled parents,
she wrung her hands in anguish and wept aloud —
"Mother! mother! dearest mother!" She could say
say no more ; her sorrow- stricken heart wd.s too full,
and hfer quivering lips and choked utterance were
stifled with sobs of unutterable anguish.

Poor Kate! She was not only doomed to witness
the work of death around her, but compelled to wade
through the blood of her parents and generous pro-
tector, who were now lifeless at her feet, and deliver
iiito the brutal- hands of the murderers her father's
money, and then sfet before them such eatables as
were in the house, after which the brutal Kanotchy
sunk his tomahawk into her brains, and the innocent
girl fell to the floor, mingling her blood with those
of her parents, after which the Indians left the cabin,
as the sun was shedding his last beams of light upon
the forest ; but oh, merciful Grod ! over what a heart-
chilling scene of sorrow and death was that evening
closing.

As already stated, it was late in the afternoon
when young Seymour started for assistance, conse-

* This Indian was named Kauotchy, who was afterwards -ta,ken
prisoner, and revealed all the fapts pertaining to the murder.

il6 PIONEEB LIFE.

quently it was some time after nightfall when the
company returned.

'Twas a dark and gloomy night, and a solemn
death-like gloom had settled upon the wilderness.
Not one twinkling star peeped through the thick foli-
age of that dense forest. No sound was heard, save
an occasional yell of some prowling wolf. The little
party quickened their pace — Philip was all anxiety.
At length, the outlines of that forest cottage, dimly
traced through the deep darkness of the night, be-
came visible. Coming within about fifty yards of
the cabin they halted. No light was visible— no sound
was heard. Silence unbroken and deeply portentious
held its throne there. Could the family, have gone
to rest? Impossible! The worst apprehensions of
the party were aroused, and the fate of the cabin
hung in dreadful uncertainty. Philip's mind now
became deeply agitated ; he would have rushed wild-
ly, madly, and fearlessly through ten "thousand dan-
gers. At this moment he would have leaped in one
bound, if possible, the distance that intervened be-
tween him and the cabin, but his companions re-
strained him. They could scarcely keep him from the
attempt.

A consultation was held, in Vhich it was agreed
that Mr. Copus alone should venture to the cabin,
(while the rest remained behind, holding themselves
in readiness at a moment's warning) and cautiously
ascertain the cause of the mysterious darkness. Ac-
cordingly he approached the cabin, and peeping in
at the back window found the room shrouded in
darkness, while a deep death-like stillness reigned
within. He listened, but not a sound came to his
ears. Creeping slyly around to the door, he found
it partially open, and cautiously putting his hand in-
side found that the floor was saturated with blood.
His worst fears then were fully confirmed ; but think-
ing that the savages might yet be inside, waiting the
return of the young man, he did not think it prudent

PIONEER LIFE. - 117

to enter, but cautiously and noiselessly returned to
the party and communicated his discovery.

On hearing the news, the mind of Philip was
thrown in the deepest agony, and he wept, while the
company deeply sympathized with the sorrow-
stricken young man, and endeavored to soothe his
feelings as best they could. But a reckless despera-
tion seized his mind, and giving one wild and fear-
ful yell he bounded away, and would have thrown
himself, as his companions supposed, into the hands
of the infuriated savages, without the least chance
of escape. Fortunately, in making this fearful leap,
a fallen tree lay before him over which he tumbled
and fell to the earth, completely stunned by the fall.
In a moment he regained his senses and found him-
self in the grasp of two powerful men.

Stunned and bewildered from the effects of the
fall, he cried out in the wildest vehemence: "Mur-
derers, cease your hold, would you drink my heart's
blood as you have the blood of my friend's."

"Philip, Philip," cried Mr. C.,'"you are in the
hands of your friends^ for God's sake keep quiet, the
savages are around us, and we shall all be mur-
dered. ' '

Philip recognized the voice of his.friend, and after
a moment's pause enquired:

"Mr. Copus, in the name of God tell me, is this
all a dream, or are my friends all murdered!"

"No, Philip, I think not," replied Mr. C, "but I
have no doubt but they are all in the hands of the
Indians as prisoners, and our only hope of their re-
covery is to set out' immediately for assistance and
give them pursuit. It is madness to attempt this
with our present force, and the Indians will not
march far before morning.

A small party of them are now lying at the cabin
in wait for your return, and under cover of darkness
will certainly murder you if you attempt to visit the
cabin before morning

? J

118 PIONEER LIFE.

The thought that his friends were only taken as
prisoners, gave the young man some shado.w of hope,
and he became more calm and reasonable. ,

The company then retraced their steps. 'Twas
night, a dark and doleful night; an impenetrable,
gloom shrouded that unbroken wilderness.' The
murky heavens were overcast with sable clouds,
while that little band of woe-stficken midnight, ad-
venturers groped their wdy through the darkness
of the night, to the cabin of Mr: Hill, situated near
where the thriving little village of Lucas now stands,
where they arrived some time after midnight.

. The family of Mr. Hill were much alarmed on the
appearance of our nocturnal visitors ; but the object
of the visit was soon made known. It was then con-
cluded .as the night was far spent, they tvould re-
main till morning. - Accordingly they all lay down to
enjoy a few hours repose. But there was one among
that sorrowful company whose eyes were not closed
in sleep. His soul was filled with bitter thoughts —
the probable fate of his parents and sister, brutally
murdered, or in the hands of unfeeling savages, suf-,
fering the most cruel indignities. How abxiously he
wished once more for approaching day. Moments
seemed as hours.*

Day at last dawned once more upon the wilder-
ness. Morning, bright and rosy, opened tipon the
forest. The feathered" songsters were climbing the
morning sky, singing their wild peans of devotion

"To Him who tipped their glittering /wings with gold
^nA tuned their hearts to praise. ' '

'Twas a lovely summer's morning. Life and ani-
mation were around him, and -under other circum-
stances dnd other feelings, the young man would
have sallied forth into the deep tangled wild-wood
exclaiming :

"A life in the woods for me,
A horie in the forest wild. ' '

But sorrow filled his heart — and one thought tor-
mented his brain ; the fate of his friends< -

PIONEER LIFE.

119

After holding a conversation with Mr. Hill it was
agreed that they immediately set out for the Block;
House, at Beams Mill, for assistance, and if possible
overtake the murderers. Accordingly they arrived
at the Block House, when a party of soldiers volun-
teered their services and we're soon on their way to
the ill-fated cabin. v

CHAPTEE XXI.

PHILIP DISCO VEKING THE DEAD BODIES OF HIS PARENTS,
8ISTEE AND RUPFNEE.

Biit loh! the crowd beheld with tearful eyes
The sickening sight with much surprise. — Lees.

' In a few hours after the party of soldiers had left
the Block House, they arrived at the cabin of Mr.
Seymour, where the most heart chilling spectacle
presented itself. On entering the yard the first ob-
ject that presented itself was the naked body of
Euffner, horribly mutilated* Poor Euffner, there
he lay, bloody and horribly mangled. He had strug-
gled manfully — he had fought with a desperation in
defence of the family, but the odds were too great.
He fell defending the helpless and' innocent, and
there he lay with the rage of battle on his counten
ance, which even the hiand of death could not efface.

But on entering the cabin the sight was most ho! ■
rible ; there lay the whole f anaily cold in death, most
brutally mangled. And poor Kate — the once romp-
ing, smiling, rosy cheeked Kate ; there she lay beau
tiful in death, bloody and mangled.

Philip on entering the yard, and seeing the body^
of Euffner, sprang into the cabin, where his worst
fears were realized. The sight was most shocking;
a sickening sensation came over him, and for a mo-
ment he stood in a kind of trance, unable to utter
one word. Death in a most terrible aspect stared
him in the face. There lay the bloody remains of
all that was dear to him in life. At length the si-
lence was broken, the young man spoke. "My
father ! my mother ! my only sister, would to Grod I

PIOKEEK LIFE. 121

had been here to have shared a similar fate. But
all is over. The finger of Providence has touched
you heavily," '

Here Philip gave vent to a flood of tears, which
moved to sympathy the hearts of all present.

Ag3,in the young man spok<i; he had found relief
in tears and he became more calm and resigned :

" 'Tis done! the bloody deed is done!, I am left
alone, but I shall submit to this deep aflSiction. My
sister, my dearest sister, little did I think on leav-
ing you that I would find you on my return thus
cold in death.

"You have passed from the earth, but I will not deplore thee,

Nor ask your return from a holier clime.
Thou did'st linger below, until He who had sent thee

Recalled thee to Eden in morning's sweet prime."

Then returning to his companion, the unfortunate
heroic Ruffner, who lay as it were guarding the en-
trance of the cabin door, his eyes for a moment
were fastened upon his mangled body. "Brave
inai;," said he, after a moment's pause, "you de-
serve a better fate. But mysterious are the ways of
Providence^ — you have fought your last battle, which
has not only covered you with blood and wounds,
but with , a halo of glory, and generatiorts yet to
come will hold your memory in sa,cred remember-
ance. " .

Philip now retired some distance from the cabin
to a beautiful shady spot, under which he and Kate
had' often sat, reading and conversing together.
Here he fell into a train of pensive reflections.

What adverse storms had clouded his prospect,
tending to destroy his youthful vigor ! What a fear-
ful tempest of disappointment had blown out his
lamp of joy almost hurling reason from its throne.
What a sad change had been effected in but a few
hours, in which a world of woe, sorrow and disap-
pointndent had risen before him. Here he sat alone,
while on other, occasions the company of Kate had

122 i PIONEER LtfE.

made that place a home. But alas ! she would never,
more sit in this sacred spot.

During Philip's stay in this cool retreat the sol-
diers were husily engaged in making preparations
to bury the dead.

As' soon as the graves were dug and all things in
readiness for the interment, Philip arose and once
more gazed upon the remains of his friends and
companion. He had nerved himself for this occa-
sion; and as he, stood for a moment gazing upon
them for the last time on earth, he turned to his
friends around him^

" Gentlemen, " said he, "I am now left alone — I
have none to mourn my loss. To the best of my
knowledge not a drop of my blood runs in the veins
of any one living. I thank you from the bottom' of
my heart for your generosity and kindness in thus
consigning to their last resting place my last earthly
friends. And now over the' graves of these my
friends and companions, and in the presencie of their
departed spirits, which I have no doubt are now
looking down upon me, I most solemnly vow a
bloody revenge. Blood for blood shall be my mot-
to;" and bidding the company an affectionate fare-
well, he bounded into the forest. .

CHAPTEE XXII.

THE COPUS BATTLE.

When the war hoop's startling yell,

Broke upon the stilly night, '
Scarcely could swift echo tell,
E 're the murderous weapon fell, .

On the victims of their spite.

As soon as the party mentioned in the preceding^
chapter, had consigned t« their last resting place,
the bodies of the murdered, they returned to the
Block House. The news of this murder was spread
in every direction, and the affrighted settlers flocked
to the black Houses for safety. Every cabin now
became tenantlesSj and the whole country filled with
terror. Among the families which took refuge in
the Block House at Beam's old ilill, was that of
James Gopus; he had taken the precaution to re-
move his family immediately after the murder of
the Seymour family. Mr. Copus remained in the
Block House but a few day's. Quiet having been
restored, and hearing of no more depredations, he
concluded to remove his family back to his farm.
But before leaving the Block House, one of th^ offi-
cers promised him to encamp at his house in the
evening of the same day, as he was going in that
direction, with a party of soldiers, for the purpose
of recCnnoitering in search of marauding bands of
Indians. With this consideration, Mr. Copus and
his family left the Block House and arrived at his
cabin in the early part of the day, finding all things
as they had left them.

A small party of soldiers, wishing to have a little
recreation in the woods, had accompanied Mr. Copus

124 PIONEER LIFE.

\

to his cabin.| There were some eight or nine of them
Here they spent thie day in various sporting exer-
cises, little dreaming of the awful fate into which
some of them would be plunged ere the rising of an-
other sun.

As a matter of some satisfaction to the reader, it
may not be out of place to give a short description
of the location of the Copus cabin.

This cabin stood at the foot of a high romantic
bluif, about one quarter of a mile from the banks of
the Black Fork. This bluff overlooks the surround-
ing country for some distance, affording a most
beautiful prospect from its summit. About three
or four rods from where the cabin stood there
gushes out of the hill one of the best springs of
water in the country. Mr. and Mrs. Copus had
<jhosen this locality on account of its romantic as-
pect, and this beautiful spring of water. The spring
stood between the cabin and a small log barn; and
a newly cut out road ran parallel with the bluff and
its base, and between it and the cabin and barn.
The range of the bluff is nearly north and south and
tejminates in a low point on the banks of the Black
Fork. The cabin and barn stood on the west side;
and a small patch of corn in roasting ears stood
near the cabin, nearly Surrounding it.

This as near as we can describe was the situation
of the cabin. The spot was wildly romantic, and
well calculated to inspire the soldiers with fun and
frolic, which, indeed, they seemed to enjoy in the
highest degree. Running, jumping and wrestling
exercises engaged their attention till evening.

As the sun sank behind the distant hills, and the
shades of night were settling down upon the forest,
Mr. Copus and the family would turn their eyes up
the road, expecting every moment to see the officer
and his soldiers make their appearance; but they
promised and came not.

As the shades of night advanced, the mind of Mr.

PIONEER LII'E. 125

C. became unaccountably agitated. A sort of mel-
ancholy gloom gathered over it, and strange fancies
rose before his vision. He communicated these feel-
ings and forebodings to the soldiers ; but they only
smiled at his fearfe, telling him that they arose alto-
gether from the impressions left upon his mind on
seeing the murdered family of Seymour, but a few
days ago.

Nine o 'clock came ; but the officer and his soldiers
were not to be seen. It was then agreed to lay down
and rest till morning, the soldiers proposing to sleep
in the barn as the night was extremely warm. To
this proposition Mr. C. objected still persisting that
there was some danger awaiting his cabin. But
the soldiers persisted in going contrary to Mr. C.'s
most earnest protestations. Finding that he could
not prevail upon them to remain in the house, he
consented to let them occupy the barn, with the un-
derstanding that they should return to the cabin
before daylight in the morning. The soldiers then
retired to the barn, and Mr. Copus and the family
to their beds in the cabin.

As Mr. C. lay upon his bed, his mind became more
and more agitated. He felt satisfied that a fearful
storm awaited them. True he had seen no symp-
toms of alarm, but his feelings were .strangely acted
upon, by some invisible agent as he supposed.^

Add to this fact, that during the night his dogs
kept a constant yelping in the direction of the corn-
field. This barking had been more than usual, which
consideration helped to increase his apprehension
still more.

Oh ! it was a fearful, sleepless night to that poor
pious family. Mr. Copus deeply felt the danger, but
resolved to meet the emergency with fortitude and
heroism.

The night was dark and moonless, and the mes-
sengers of death, silent and frightful had gathered
themselves around that solitary cabin, ready at the

126 PIONEER LIFE. . "

.appointed hour to smite their victims to the earth.
Yet no one of that little band, save Mr. Copus,
breamed that danger, was st) nigh.

'Twas morning, but the rosy tints of day had not
jet appeared, as the soldiers entered the cabin., Mr.
■C. was yet ill bed. Again he assui'ed thehi that in
his opinion a fearful struggle was nigh at hand, and
warned them, to act with caution. The soldiers
smiled as before, remarking that his mind was only
under the influence of unnecessary alarm.

After the soldiers had sat and conversed a while
with the family, part of them agreed to go to the
spring to wash theniselves. Mr. C. remonstrated —
iold them not to act so rashly — but they persisted
and went. Mr. C. wanted them in case they went to
take their rifles with them — but they refused, and
went to the spring, setting their rifles against the
cabin outside, when in the act of washing, a long
loud and soul-chilling yell rent the air as if a hun-
dred furies had just been let loose from the pit of
hell, and in an instant that cabin was surrounded by
nearly forty-five painted savages, cutting off the re-
treat of the terror stricken soldiers at 1;he spring.

On hearing this horrid yell, the soldiers started
from the spring in different directions. Three start-
ed off in the direction of the Black Fork, two of
w^hom were caught in running ^.bout eighty rods, the
third succeeded in eluding his pursuers, but received
two balls in his body, one through his bowels and the
other through his foot. He ran about a quarter of
a mile, where he was found about eight weeks after-
wards in a partially putrified condition.

The fourth* wheeled and like a chafed lion, rushed
through the infuriated savages, burst open the cabin
door, and fell inside with one shot through the thigh.

We now turn to the condition of affairs inside. of
tiie cabin. On hearing the yells of the savages Mr.

* Yet living withili sight of this memorable spot. ,

PIONEEB LIFE. 127

Oopus sprang from his bed, and seizing Ms rifle
partly opened the door in order to discharge it at
the advaricing Indians, but in the act of discharging
his rifle he received a ball through his bosom, and
staggering backwards fell across the table exclaim-
ing, "Men, I am a dead man, but don't be discoT^r-
aged, defend yourselves and my family like men."
He spoke no more. ' His trembling and affrighted
wifet helped him on his bed, where he breathed his
last in about one hour. Just as they were about
closing the door after the fall of Mr. Copus, Dye
made his appearance as already stated, and falling-
inside, the door was made fast.

Whether Mr. Copus discharged his rifle or not
cannot be told with any certainty, but the most
probable opinion is that, he did, as an Indian was
immediately afterwards discovered lying mortally
wounded in the yard, a ball having passed through
his bowels. It is thought that both fired at the same
instant, each ball taking effect.

The contending parties now stood seven against
forty-five. Fiye soldiers, one of whom received a
wound in the thigh, with Henry Copus, aged 9 years,
and Wesley Copus. Here then were only seven
whites, five men and two boys, against forty-five sav-
ages. This was a fearful odds. Dye's wound was
very painful, yet he bore it patiently, animating his'
companions with words of encouragement.

As soon as the door had been fastened after the
entry of Dye, a general fire was opened upon the
cabin, and the sharp cracks of forty rifles rang upon
the morning air, while leaden messengers of death
flew thick as hail upon the -^valls and door of the
cabin ; add to this the fierce yells of the infuriated
savages mingled with the roar of the rifles, and you
have the "mingled horrors of the noise of battle."
But there were brave hearts in that cabin who looked

t This man's, name was George Dye, of Leatherwood, Guernsey
County, Ohio.

128 PIONEER LIFE.

death in the face without a tremulous emotion.
Would that we could here record all their names.*

In the commencement of the battle, a Miss Copus
received a wound in the thigh ; the women were then
placed up stairs for greater safety.

The firing now became incessant — volley after vol-
ley of rifle balls were poured in the cabin, until the
door and walls were perfectly riddled ; and at every
volley more than forty frightful yells rang through
the deep forest. Thus for the space of one hour did
the savages continue to fire into the house ; but find-
ing that they could ijot effect but little in this way
they ascended the bluff, and with renewed yells, if
possible more frightful than before, commenced
pouring their balls upon the cabin roof, expected to
dislodge those who had taken refuge up stairs. They
were now under cover of logs and trees, and sup-
posed themselves in a more secure position. Several
had already fallen around the house; who on at-
tempting to gain the inside had paid the forfeit of
their insolence. But to their no small astonish-
ment they found that the side of the hill was no less
hot, for at ialmost every fire some red skin received,
a mark. The soldiers did not waste their ammuni-
tion in firing at uncertainties.

There was a savage secreted behind a tree, who
for some time kept pouring his balls upon the cabin
roof as fast as he could load and fire. , Several fit-
tempts were made to dislodge him but to no effect.

At last one of the soldiers (Launtz,) who had been
wounded in the arm by him while removing a chunk
from between the logs, observed his head peering
from behind' the tree, drew a bead Upon it, fired, and
the next mojaent he was seen tumbling in a most
ludicrous manner from ropk to rock, until he reached

* The two who were caught, Idlled and scalped were named
Geo. Shipley and John Tedrich. The one found in the woods dead
was named Warnoek, and one named Launtz re,ceived a ball in
his arm, breaking it. ' .

PIOJfEEE LIFE. 129

the bottom of the hill, where he lay quiet as a lamb,
^'none daring to make him afraid.'!

At length the Indians finding that they could not
succeed in their undertaking, and that the resist-
ance was more powerful than they had anticipated,
gave up the siege, firing upon the cabin as they re-
treated ; and having gained a certain distance from
the house, they sent up one more simultaneous and
mbst horrid yell ; and taking their dead and wound-
ed, were soon out of sight.

It was now about 10 o 'clock A. M., the battle hav-
ing lasted since day light, during which time the
Indians had lost about ten of their number, as near
as could be ascertained. The number of whites
killed and wounded has already been stated.
' On returning they fired upon a flock of sheep,
which during that eventful morning had clustered
together on the side of the hill, looking 'down in
amazement upon that frightful scene , of carnage.
The poor creatures tumbled down one after another
until they lay in one promiscuous heap.

Great was the joy of that brave band, on behold-
ing those bloody savages retreating. But fearing
that this was only done to decoy the inmates from
the cabin, it was agreed that only one should leave
the house, and he only should escape through the
roof, and with all possible speed make for the Block
House for help. This was done. He had not been
gone more than two hours, when on looking up the
road in the direction of the Creek, the same party
of Indians as they supposed were seen stealthily
creeping among the bushes and high grass towards
the cabin.

They now gave themselves over for lost. Each
looked in the face of his companion, with a sad and
sorrowful gaze. The mother clasped her children to
her bosom with that fondness and despair which
none but a mother can feel under such trying cir-
cumstances.

130 PIONEER LIFE.

' ' Soldiers, ' ' said one of that noble band, ' ' sell yout
lives dearly. Our situation is hopeless ; and our con-
dition desperate. Look upon this podr widow and
her seven fatherless children, and may the sight in-
spire you with the energy of omnipotence, and the
daring and courage of the very God of war himself."

"On with the battle— death or victory," shouted
a half dozen voices, and a spirit of unyielding re-
sistance sat upon every heart within that little bul-
let riddled cabin.

Each soldier grasped his rifle, and takiijg such a
position as afforded the best opportunity of seeing
the advancing enemy, held himself in readiness for
the onslaught.

"Now boys," exclaimed the intrepid Dye, though
smarting under the pain of his horrible wound, ' ' aim
at the hearts of the red devils, and each of you select
your man." '

Onward came the skulking f oe---dodgin ' from tree
to tred. The number was increased. "Firm, men,
firm, steady ! steady ! Eeserve your fire until I give
the copimand, and then charge upon the hellish
b^iid."

A few moments more and the advancing foe were
within one hundred yards of the cabin, their heads
now and then peering above ^he tops of the weeds.

"Hold! hold!" cried a voice just as the party were
about to give the advancing enemy a greeting salute
— "hold, there is a mystery connected with this af-
fair. These men are not Indians ! "

A moment more and a party of American soldiers
under the command of Captain revealed them-
selves tp the astonished yet joyful inmates. It was
the same company that had promised to encamp at
the house of Mr. Copus the preceding evening, but
had been d6tained forsome cause, and had encamped
in the woods about three miles from the cabin.

They had advanced in this manner upon the cabin,
(Hot knowing what had befallen it,) for the purpose'

■ PIONEEE LIFE. ^ 131

if possible, of frightening the soldiers, by way of a
joke. But tjiey had almost carried the joke too far.
A few moments more, and, in all probability, a fear-
ful havoc would have been among that unsuspecting
party.

But if the terrified inmates were overjoyed at this
Tinlooked for aid; the officer and the soldiers were
not a little astonished in beholding the fearful havoc
which the savages had made among the inmates of
that ill-fated cabin.

Having buried the dead, the wounded were placed
upon litters and carried upon their shoulders to the
Block House, where they^ received 6very attention
necessary to their comfort ; and in a short time they
recovered from their wounds.

Such, dear reader, is a full description of the bat-
tle of Black Fork, which considered in point of num-
bers, stands unparalelled in the history of the State.
Our informers* assured us that the utmost coolness,
and the most undaunted courage were exhibited dur-
ing the action. They speak in the highest terms of
. the courage of this little handful of braVe men.

A word of explanation, and we shall conclude this
chapter. Mr. Copus was a minister of the gospel —
had preached to the Greentown Indians, and had en-
joyed their utmost confidence. Upon his persuasion
the Indians had submitted themselves to the officer.
Afterwards finding their village destroyed, they
wrongfully supposed that Mr. C. was accessory to
the crime, and that through his influence the deed
had been perpetrated. Had the Indians really known
that Mr. Copus had no hand in the matter they never
would have molested him. The officer who compelled
Mr. Copus to accompany him alone stands account-
able for the consequences which followed.

* Mrs. Copus, widow of .James Copus, (who was killed the first
fire,) yet lives near the spot where the affray took place, and her
son Wesley, who was then in the battle, 9 years old.

CHAPTER XXIII.

PHILIP AND ALFRED BRADLEY— ENCOUNTEE WITH IN-
DIANS—PIPE'S CAVERN.

Some few weeks after the murder of the Seymour
family, two young men were seen standing on the
banks of the Huron river, near the mouth, earnestly
engaged in conversation.

One of those whom we shall introduce to the reader
under the name of Alfred Bradley, was a native of
the New England States. He was the decendant of
a wealthy and respectable family. Alfred possessed
a mind of the first order, combining wit and humor
with no ordinary amount of intelligence. Besides
these, Alfred was in possession of the most un-
daunted courage. He was bold and fearless, almost
to recklessness — Alfred could not be called hand-
some, yet he was the centre of attraction.

The other person mentioned in connection with
young Bradley was Philip Seymour, the young pio-
neer of Eichland, with whom the reader has been
made acquainted in a previous chapter.

Philip, after leaving the cabin of his father, on the
morning of the burial of his friends, made his way
to the settlement at the mouth of the river, where he
arrived in a few days after he had left Black Fork
settlement ih Richland.

The two young men had accidentally met on the
banks of the stream, where they formed each other 's
acquaintance.

"Mr. Bradley," said Philip, after they had re-
vealed to each other the causes which led 'to their ad-
venture in this region, ' ' since our histories are simi-
lar, I propose that we here form a league of friend-

PIONEEK LIFE. 1.33-

sliip, and unite our fortunes, be they good or bad. ' '

"^Agreed," said Alfred, "I am in for adventure.
I seek danger and excitement, and have left the
abodes of civilization for this purpose. Mr. Sey-
mour, agreeably to your narrative, you are now the
last of your family — you have none to mourn your
loss. Like myself you are left to meet the changes
and perils of life, friendless and alone."

"I have told you I have none to mourn my loss.
My poor mother died when I was young, leaving my-
self and a lovely little sister younger than myself
in the care of my father. The death of my mother so
preyed upon the spirits of my father, that he was
forced to leave his native State. In the year 1799,
he with myself and sister, emigrated to Ohio, set-
tling down at the mouth of Conneaut Creek,* in what
is now called Ashtabula County.

' ' In the space of a few Weeks after we landed here,
my sister and a little girl belonging to one of the
settlers, were missing. , The whole settlement went
but in search of them, but could learn nothing of
them. It was, therefore, agreed, that the children
had been devoured by wild beasts, or else stolen by
some marauding party of Indians. It was supposed
that the children had strayed too far into the woods,
got lost and could not find their way back again.
Poor little Anna; I shall never see her again. The
loss of my sister crushed the spirits of my father.
He died shortly afterwards of apoplexy. I was left
among strangers, a poor orphan, homeless and
friendless. I was then put under the care of a man
named "Williams, who sometime afterwards was mur-
dered by the Indians. I then went to live with a
family named Montgomery, where I remained for
several years." '

"Truly," replied Philip, "our trials and condi-
tions in life are remarkably singular. But those

* This was three years after the first surveying, party lajided
here. This was the first settlement in "Northern Ohio.

134 PIONEEK LIFE.

scenes are past and gone, and we are now entering-
the arena of greatej perils ; but I hope a kind for-
tune will protect us in our perilous adventures."

Here, the conversation ended, and the young pio-
neers left the banks of the 'stream, and. after making
the necessary preparations, started into the wilder-
ness.

Continuing their journey they came to a solitary
cabin about sunset.

"What a delightful country," said Alfred.

' ' Quite romantic, ' ' replied Philip. ' ' From its ap-
pearance I— — "

"Hist!" said Alfred; "did you hear that?"

"I did. The sound is familiar, and I'm much
mistaken if we haven't some shooting to do before
we get clear of the buggars. But "

Another yell broke in upon the forest before Philip
could end his sentence.

"Let us block the entrance," exclaimed Alfred,
"and give these howling devils a warm reception, if
they come within range of our rifles." '

*''No, no," replied Philip, as another yell greeted
their ears, "let us retreat to the edge of yonder
thicket, and watch their movements."

Our heroes accordingly took refuge in the thicket,
and in a few moments a party of four Indians made
their appearance at the door of the cabin.

' ' Let us fire upon the red dogs, ' ' whispered Alfred. '

"No, no," replied Philip; "it's most too long a

"Whoop, whoop, how-ee," rang out once more
upon the forest some distance in the rear of where
our heroes lay secreted.

"By thunder," exclaimed Philip, "we are sur-
rounded by these red devils. Alph, keep your nerves
steady, and in case of an attack make every shot
tell."

"Let us move somewhat further from their lijie
of approach," said Alfred.

PIONEER LIFE. 135

' ' An important suggestion, ' ' replied Philip ; ' ' and
the sooner the better." Accordingly the two hunt-
ers moved a short distan<fe further into the thicket
until the advancing party had passed intq the open
space and joined their companions at the cabin, into
which the whole party of Indians entered.

"By Hokey," whispered Alfred, "there is a regi-
ment of them— -at least twenty — and giant looking
fellows at that. What the deuce do you think these
fellows are after ? ' ' inquired he.

' ' Nothing that betokens any good to the white set-
tlers, ' ' said Philip.. ' ' But we shall find out their mis-
sion here, or I'm badly mistaken. S,ee! they have
struck a light in tlie cabin. It is evident that they do
not suspicion the presence of any white man; they
have not even placed a sentinel on duty."

' ' How much I would like to know their business
here," said Alfred.

"We shall," replied Philip. "We will remain here
a few minutes longer, until they are fully engrossed
with the dispatch of their business, which I am sat-
isfied relates to some contemplated outrage upon the
white settlers."

"Can't we storm the 'castle,' and take the red
buggers prisoners 1 ' ' asked Alfred, apparently in the
greatest earnestness.

"Not at present," replied Philip smiling, and
much amused at his companion's daring spjrt. "The
odds are too fearful. Twenty against two is rather
a one sided game. But, hark ! I hear my name men-
tioned among the devils ! Good Heavens ! what busi-
ness engages their attention, that induces them to^
use my name. Alfred, I am all anxiety, let us steal
quietly nearer the cabin," and the young hunters
moved within a few rods of the cabin door where they
could command a fair view of the house. Here our
heroes lay under cover of darkness for some mo-
ments, consulting as to the best mode of conduct-
ing their operations in the present ease.

136 PIONEER LIFE.'

As they lay in this position they could distinctly
hear each Indian orator, as he addressed the assem-
bly, but understood but little of what was said. One
or two of the speakers, however, were understood
as referring to the burning of Greentown, the inur-
der of the Seymour family, and the Copus battle.

"By thupder," said Philip, "I am almost certain
some, of theses fellows were engaged in the murder
of my friehds. Curse their red hides, how I wish I
could glut my vengeance upon them, but the odds are
too fearful, and I must content myself at this time,
with muttering curses, deep but- not loud. ' '

"Philip," said Alfred, "I am aware that the odds
are fearful, but the victory would be more glorious,
in case we would overpower them. I may overrate
our heroism, but I feel as though we can demolish
every red devil of them. Let us fire the house when
they are asleep, and when they are aroused by the
flames and rush to the door in confusion, we can
club them one and all to the earth."

The suggestion, at first sight, seemed practicable
to Philip, and he was about to enter inta arrange-
ments to carry it into operation at a favorable op-
portunity, but a second thought rose up against its
practicability and he abandoned the idea as extreme-
ly preposterous. "It won't do, it won't do," said
Philip, after a moment's pause — "the red devils are
too nifmarous. Let us watch their movements, and
wait a more favorable opportunity to wreak our
vengeance. " '

"As you think best," replied Alfred, "I shall
most cheerfully confide in your judgment. But I do
not think it prudent to remain here all night. ' Day-
light will discover our hiding place t'o them, and we
shall be made prisoners, and probably meet a"^ cruel
fate."

"I think not^" replied Philip; "these fellows do
not suspicion our being here, and by retiring some
distance in the thicket, we can elude their observa-

PIONEER LIFE. ' .137

tion, as they will leave the cabin at the first dawn of
the day."

To this' proposition Alfred readily consented, and
our heroes retired some distance into the thicket,
where they remained till morning.

Daylight was just opening in the east, when our
heroes were awakened by the noise and bustle of the
Indians in the cabin, preparing to start on their
work of destruction.

"What infernal throats," exclaimed Alfred, as a
horrible yell broke in upon the morning air, as the
savages left the cabin to pursue their journey
through the wilderness.'

Philip and his companion remained in their hiding
plaice until they were certain the savages were' out
of hearing, when they retraced their steps to the
cabin, which they once more entered.

' ';See here, ' ' said Alfred, as he picked up from the
floor a gold finger ring. In a moment Philip recog-
nized the ring. >

' ' By the sacred ties of fraternal affection, and the
blood of my murdered parents and sister, I will
glut my vengeance on the red devil who stole this
Ijriceless gem from the mangled body of my devoted
sister. May the red lightnings of heavens blast and
wither his savage heart, and may the candle of his
life be extinguished amid the most exquisite tor-
ments ! "

"See yonder!" exclaimed Alfred, pointing in the
direction whither the savages had bent their steps,
* ' See ! there are two of those same red devils mak-
ing their way back to the cabin!"

"Let them come!" cried Philip, "they shall have
a receipt in full for all demands against them."

Onward came the two stalwart Savages, little
dreaming that they were rushing into the jaws of
death. Nearer and still nearer came the unsuspect-
ing Indians. Crack! crack! went two rifles at the
same instant; and the two savages fell to rise no

138 PIONEER LIFE.

more. Philip and his companion rushed to the spot
where the fallen savages lay, but not until they had
re-loaded their rifles. One of them was just breath-
ing his last, while the other made several unsuc-
cessful attempts to gain his feet.

"Philip Seymour," exclaimed the bleeding and
dying savage, "me know you — ^me help kill your
father, mother and Euffner — you kill me — me "

Here a convulsive shudder broke his utterance,
and in a few moments he breathed his last.

Philip and his companion stood gazing for a mo-
ment upon the fallen savages. It was the first deed
of death which Alfred had committed, and he evi-
dently struggled with his feelings in justifying the
deed.

"But what shall we do with the dead?" asked
Alfred. ,: ,

"Let the wild beasts make a feast of them," re-
plied Philip, and the young hunters left the cabin,
taking an opposite direction, and stopping every
now and then in order to ascertain if they were pur-
sued.

"Alfred," said Philip, "those two red skins were
both concerned in the murder of our faipily. One
of them, as you heard, confessed the deed. This one
fell by the ball from your rifle. The other one had
not time to confess, my aim was too deadly. Thank
Heaven, they have shed the last drop of innocent
blood on earth. Vengeance has overtaken them in
a moment least expected. They were, no doubt, re-
turning to the .cabin in search of this ring, as it is
a valuable one. But the red devil that gets this gem
from me must first take my scalp."

Our heroes were now doubly armed, as they
seized the rifles of the fallen Indians, and carried
them along. Continuing their journey they came to
a singular spring of transparent water which formed
a most interesting natural phenomenon. It was now
mid-day, and the sun was pouring its flood of light

PIONEER LIFE. 139

upon the surface of the water, which being refracted
and reflected the various hues of the rainbow ap-
peared upon the objects at the bottom. Our young-
heroes gazed with admiration and delight upon this
natural well. '

After satisfying their curiosity here, they con-
tinued their journey, until they came to a small open-
ing on the side of the hill. On entering this aper-
ture, they foiind to their no little astonishment a
spacious cavern, presenting a most magnificent ap-
pearance inside, as it abounded in beautiful stalac-
tites and stalagmites.

The inside of this cavern presented signs of .being
inhabited by Indians; as our heroes found several
Indian trinkets lying scattered around. Our young
hunters entered this cavern amidst a deathlike si-
lence, and fearful gloom.

"Philip," exclaimed Alfred, "this cavern is the
retreat of "

"What polluted mortal dare intrude upon the
sanctity of this hallowed abode, ' ' interrogated a sol-
emn voice from the depths of this gloomy dungeon,
before the young man could finish his sentence.

"What spirit of man or devil, holds his gloomy
throne in these dark recesses?" demanded the young
man, on hearing himself accosted by an invisible
agent within.

"What the. devil does all this mean?" enquired
Philip, somewhat nervously agitated, "surely this
cannot be the abode of departed spirits. ' ' .

"Young man," continued the mysterious voice in
a low and sepulchural tone, "would you desecrate
this holy place, at the peril of all that's valuable to
you. Know you not that within this sacred and sol-
emn enclosure dwells the Geni of life and death?"

"Hobgoblin, devil, saint or sinner, or whatever
you may be," interrogated Philip, "I conjure you
by all the saints of the calendar, to tell us where we

140 • PIONEEB LIFE.

are, who you are and what freak of nature placed
you here. ' '

"The voice of Phihp Seymour, the last of the Sey-
mour family," replied the voice, "I know you, young
man, your mission hither is one of blood — you seek
revenge for the blood of your murdered relations.
But young man, I would have you remember that one
mightier than thou hast said "vengeance is mine,
and I will repay."

"Nay, nay, mysterious stranger," replied Philip,
"I will be the victor of my own vengeance, I call
not to my aid, other strength than my own, and that
of my companion with me here. But pray, are you
a dead or living spirit, your voice is familiar, and
yet I cannot identify it with any living."

"Young man," replied the voice', "you knew me
once, and it is possible you would so soon forget me.
You ask me to reveal myself to you, this I will do
on one condition."

"Name it," replied Philip, "and I will comply."

"But will you swear by the Great Spirit, that
you will not reveal my name or this location* to any
one living, except the young man now with you, and
to him only under the same obligation."

' ' We will both swear, ' ' replied Philip.

"Then," said the voice, "in the.name of the Great
Spirit, I invoke His Angels as witnesses," and so
saying, a tall and elegantly shaped Indian Chief
made his appearance, before the eyes of the aston-
ished hunters.

"Captain Pipe!" ejaculated the bewildered Philip;
"in the name of God, Captain how came you here?"

"Young men, you seem much agitated, and no lit
tie astonished," replied the Captain.- Compose your
minds and I will reveal to you the history of my life

* This cavern is situated about two miles, north of Gastalia, in
-what is now called Erie county. It was well known to many of the
aborigines, but not known to any of the whites, save the two young
heroes of our tale. It was discovered a few years ago from the cir-
cumstance of a dog pursuing a rabbit in an aperture at its mouth.

PIONEER LIFE. 141

since last we met. Yours I know up to the murder
of your family."

v"But where is Lilly?" asked the young hunter hur-
riedly.

" A\ sir," and the old man hung down his head
and wept.

"Has any ill befallen her?" asked Philip, with
breathless anxiety.

' ' Her life is in the hands of Him, who gave it, bi^t
where she now is I cannot tell. Her disappearance
is wrapped up in a profound mystery."

' ' Merciful Heaveijs ! ' ' exclaimed Philip, ' ' and are
all my hopes thus prostrated in a moment, is Lilly
in the hands of the cruel savages? — she shall be res-
cued. ' '

"Mr. Seymour, replied the old man, "calm your
feelings and you and your companion follow me to
my inner chamber and I will give you all the par-
ticulars of Lilly's mysterious disappearance.

Accordingly; the two young hunters followed the
old Chief, who led them through several appart-
ments, until they came to one more ample than the
rest, which was the one in which the old Chief re-
sided, since he had taken up his abode in the cavern.

After the old man had led our heroes into this
apartment, he bade them be seated, and taking down
some "jerk and honey," requested them to partake-
of his hospitality, after which he related to.them all
he knew concerning the disappearance of his daugh-
ter, and then' concluded by giving them an interest-
ing tradition concerning this locality.
, This account will be given in the next chapter.

CHAPTER XXIV.

BISAPPEAEANCB OF LILLY PIPE— THE CHIEFTAIN'S
STORY— THE HAPPY HUNTING GEOUND.

Fair Lilly's fame began to sound afar,
And many a hero, to woo her love '

Unbent his rigid brow. She favored none;
But frowned upon them all — *
They vengeance vowed.

"Young man," said the old Chieftain after he had
shared his hospitality with his guests, ' ' a few days
after you visited me at my cabin, our mutual friend
Johnathan Chapman also paid me a visit. He highly
complimented your father's family, particularly
your sister Kate. He nlanifested much anxiety con-
cerning the safety of the family, and expressed his
-determination to warn you of any impending danger,
if in his power. He spent the evening with us, dur-
ing which his attention was particularly directed to
Lilly, in spiritual instruction. The next morning he
bid us farewell, and left for Mansfield, since which I
have heard nothing from him. In a day or two after-
wards my daughter and I left 'for Cleveland, where
we arrived in safety, and in a few days after our
arrival, Lilly disappeared, since which no tidings
have reached my ears concerning her destiny. This
loss sets heavily upon me. Dear' child, she's in the
hands of some unfeeling villain. She has refused the
hand of some noble young wa,rriors, but enough, my
feelings overcome me, and my eyes overflow with
tears. There is one consolation left me, and that is,
I have commended her into the care of the Great
Spirit, whom I know will protect her from a cruel'
fate."

PIONEER LIFE. ' 143.

Philip, who, during the old Chief's pitiful lamenta-
tion, had sat a silent hearer, sprang to his feet as the
old man ceased speaking — ^his eyes were sijffused
with tears, but wiping them away, and commanding
his feelings, he burst forth into a torrent of the
most bitter and bloody deilunciations against all con-
cerned in the affair. Then turning to his companion,
thus addressed him :

"Alfred, in you I have the utmost confidence —
your integrity and courage are beyond reprehension,
and, now, with your assistance, and in the name of
h^r who is dearer to me than life itself, I will tra-
verse this wilderness in search of that angel, and
rescue her, or fall in the attempt."

"Philip," interrupted his companion, "here's my
hand to aid you in the adventure. The soul of Al-
fred Bradley burns for revenge, and fears not the
face of danger."

' ' Enough, ' ' cried Philip, ' * 'tis the voice of a hero,
and with such a noble specimen of bravery, and dar-
ing courage, we cannot fail in our undertaking."

"But whither would you go," enquired the old
man. "All is darkness and uncertainly."

"We will traverse this wild forest in all direc-
tions," said Alfred — "visit every settlement, ex-
plore every locality, and shoot every suspicious look-
ing devil we find lurking in the woods."

"Well," said the old man, "with such determina-
tion and resolution, you cannot fail to be successful ;

- '. ■ '■ - -^iv't IP' ■' '■'-■• upon you tlie laf-i
blessings of old Captain Pipe."

' ' Thank you, sir, thank you, ' ' responded the young
men, "your blessing is duly appreciated, and we feel
more than ever, the utmost confidence in the success
of our adventure ; but 'ere we start upon our expe-
dition we would have you relate to us the tradition-
j.ry legend connected with this remarkable locality."

"There once was," commenced the chieftain, "ati
exceedingly beautiful young Indian maiden who, died

144 PIONEEK LIFE. !

very suddenly on the, day she was to be married to
-a handsome young warrior. The young man was a
brave and fearless hunter, but the unexpected loss of
liis young mistress so deeply affected his mind that
he could' not cease to mourn for her night, and day.
The young man often visited the spot where his be-
trothed was' buried, and he would set there lament-
ing from sunrise to sunset. His friends tried to
console him, but to no purpose. War and hunting
had lost their charms and he threw aside his war-
club, bow and arrows. He had often heard the old
people talking of a holier and happier land, wherr
the sun n,ever went down, and where no sorrow and
disappointment could enter. He had heard them
say there was a lovely path which led to this de-
lightful country, which they called the land of spir
its, and where all the true and faithful had gouf.
This path the young man wished to know, as he had
determined to follow, it, and join his lost one in the
land of souls. Accordingly, after having made prep-
arations, he started upon his journey. It was on a
clear, beautiful summer 's morning. The trees were
all green, the flowers in full bloom, and the birds
were chanting their merry songs among the trees
of the forest'. His course, as tradition affirmed, lay
in a westerly direction.

"For a while the country over which he traveled
presented no change. Forests, hills, valleys and
streams wore the same aspect as in his native land.
At length he came to a regioji where dark and chilly
stprms wrecked the skies. The trees were stripped
of their green leaves — flowers had died and withered
away. Sunshine and warmth and pleasant breezes
were no longer felt. Being scantily clad, he began
to suffer with cold. Under his feet were piles of
snow, and above his head were seen rolling turbu-
lently across the Jieavens, the murky storm clouds.
Weary and fatigued he lay down to rest, after seek-
ing a shelter frona the storm. During his slumber

PIONEER LIFE. " 145

he dreamed. In a moment he was in sight of the
land of spirits, where his eyes rested upon the object
of his search. Soon she was by his side. ' ' Gome, ' '
said she, "I will show you the red man's happy
hunting grounds." The young man followed her
until they arrived at the margin of a cle^r running
stream, abounding with all manner of the most beau-
tiful fish. "This," said she, "is the river of life.
Whoever drinks of this element can never died. But
cast your eyes to the other side, ' ' said she, pointing
her finger in that direction. "That is the red man's
everlasting home." The young man ca,st his eyes
in the direction pointed out, and beheld what he had
never before seen., A lovely and seemingly un-
bounded forest lay before him, through which
roarhed countless hordes of deer, buffalo and other
wild animals. Thousands and tens of thousands of*
the gayest plumed birds of all kinds were nestling
among the branches of the trees, filling the forest
with the most delightful music. The forest was
clothed in a mantle of unfading green, while an end-
less variety of the most beautiful and fragrant flow-
ers were interspersed over the wide expanse, pre-
senting a loveliness beyond the power of description.

"How I long to wander in that delightful land,"
said the young man.

"Ah," replied the maiden, "that wish cannot now
be gratified. None but the souls of men and women
can enter there. You cannot take your body, or your
bow and arrows there. You must go back the same
road you came here, and when the Master of life
calls you, follow him, and he will conduct you safely
through, and give you another body, which will live
forever. ' '

The young man awoke, and found himself in this
cavern. Here he resolved to spend the remainder
of his life, which was very short. In a few jeats
he died — the Master of Life called him home to join

146 , ' PlONEEK LIFE. ' , ^

the company of the young maideil, in the spirit
land." ^ , .

Philip and his companion listened with much in-
terest to the old man's legend, and after pausing a
moment, Philip replied:

"Venerable sir, your tradition- conta,ins sonie
features; peculiarly applicable to the condition of my
mind at this time. .Like that young warrior, I shall
start in search of your missing daughter, and should
I fail in finding her in some earthly wigwam, I hope
to find her nestled among the unfading beauties of
the spirit land."

"May the blessings of the Great Spirit rest upon
your adventure, ' ' said the Captain, with much feel-
ing-

. ' ' And ndw, young men, ' ' continued he, * ' I conjure
you'to reveal this location to none but those in whom
you can repose the greatest confidence. This cavern
is known: to but tew,'. In fact I know of none living
at this tim-e who are in the habit of visiting this
place. It was at one time the residence of the Sciota
Hermit, as he was afterwards named- He remained
here for some time, but getting into difficulty, the
particulars of which I cannot now relate, he left,
and wandering south, came ^o a cave* near Ghilli-
cothe, which he entered and occupied for sbme years.

"It is my intention," continueii he, "to remain
here, until I can hear some news from my daughter.
It may be that this pavern may be of some use to
you, and perhaps I can render you some service.
There are several prominent war chiefs, who are,
at this time, under the direction of the American
Groverhment, to whom I shall communicate this af-
fair. These Chiefs are well known to me, and being
my friends, will lend me their aid. in recovering my

* This cavern is situated about , eleven miles -south of Chilli-
cothe, on the road to Portsmouth. At the tinle the, hermit (Wm.
Hewitt) came there it was a perfect wilderness. He occupied this
cave fourteen years, and died at the age of seventy years.

PIONEER LIFE. 147

daughter. Once more I must request you and your
companion to use caution and circumspection in/en-
tering this cavern."

The young men promised strict compliance, and
after delating to the Chief their adventure with the
Indians at the cabin of Gibbs and Buel, and showing
him the finger ring which they found in the cabin,
they left the cave, and directed their course towards
that region now known as Ottawa county, where
they arrived a few days after a couple of skirniishes*
h£td taken place' between a party of Indians and
American soldiers. From this region they con-
tinued their journey through the wilderness until
they came to the banks of the Maumee, and con-
tinued up the stream for some distance, until they
came to the fqot of the Rapids. This place they
determined to make their winter quarters.

It will be recollected that when the war broke out
in 1812, there were, then residing about sixty fami-
lies at the Rapids. This country t was Originally the

* These were the first trial of arms in the war of 1812, aiVd
took place on the 29th of September.. Joshua E., Giddens, then a
lad of sixteen, was present on that occasion. He published an
account of these aldrmishes, in the Ladie^ Repository.

t A traveller thus describes the face of the country previous to
this expedition.

' "We marched four or five miles in corn fields down tlje Au-
glaize, and there is not less than 1000 acres of corn around the
town (the present site of Fort Defiance.)

Previous to 1'812 only two white men, as far as known, re-
sided in this region. A Col. Anderson was the first white trader
of any notoriety on the Maumee. He settled at Fort Miami in
1800. There was, however, some years pijor,' a FrencHman resid-
ing here, named Manor |Fontogany, the Chief adopted him in his
tribe under the name of Saw en-de-bans, which means ''yellow
hair." Manor, or as he was called by some Minard, stated to our
informant, that the first intimation he had of Hull's surrender at
Detroit, presented itself by the appearance of a party of British
and Indians. But after this battle, and the treaty which fol-
lowed, white emigrants commenced planting their cabins there,
and at the period of which we write, there were about sixty cabins
belonging to the whites.

The surrender of Hull gave a fine opportunity for the Indians
to commit depredations. Accordingly, immediately after this sur-
render, a party of British and Indiang made their appearance at
the Rapids, and wantonly plundered the settlers of all the property
they, came 'across, and then returned to Detroit in their canoes.

148

PIONEER LIFE.

Ipdian's El Dorado, and previous to Wayne's cam-
paign was densely inhlabited by the red men.

There were, however, three of this party who remained with the
intention of plundering a few scattered families in the ■wilderness.
One of these was a young Delaware Chief, named Sac-a-manc. This
was the same notorious Chief whose name was a terror to many
a poor pioneer family, liike a stealthy tig«r, he sought his prey
in ambuscade. The name of Sac-a-man(4 Was -v^ell known among
the pioneers of Owl Creek, Knox county, where he distinguished
himself in the scalping business. The condition of this region.,
therefore, at this period, was indeed perilous. The country was
desolate, and everywhere were seen scouting parties of Indians.

CHAPTER XXV. '

ADVENTURE WITH INDIAN'S.

Through forest 4rear, their course they led."
"Again they moved with cautious tread,

It was a beautiful morning, about the middle of
October, when Philip Seymour and his companion
left the Maumee Eapids for an excursion in the
wilderness. Their course lay mostly in a southern
direction. Autumnal breezes were blowing among
the! forest trees, whose yellow leaves indicated the
approach of ' ' stern old winter. ' '

There is a beauty in the varied year. In the
vernal months all is loveliness and enchantment —
the air softens into balm, and buds and flowers spring
up at our feet. In summer the heat drives us into
the cool shade,, where our bodies are soothed by the
refreshing breeze. In autumn the fields are covered
with the profusion of nutritive treasures, and the
slender boughs bend with the most delicious fruit.
Autumn has alwaf^s been looked upon as the most
melancholy part of the year, with it comes the decay
of the leaf, and the witheririg of flowers, and tlie
songs of the woodland minstrels are hushed amid
the howling winds which sweep with desolating en-
ergy through the forest.

"Alfred," said Philip, after they had gone some
distance, "our adventure is somewhat perilous, and
requires the utmost caution."

' ' It' may be, ' ' responded Alfred, ' ' but our failure
shall not be the consiequence of any want of courage
on my part. Believe me, sir, when I assure you that

150 PIONEER LIFE.

1 now feel as though we could fight a regiment of
devils, and take by* storm their smoky citadel."

"Thunder and Mars!" exclaimed Philip; some-
what amused at the laconic expression of his com-
rade. "Wonder if you couldn't— — "

' ' Indians by hokey, ' ' ejaculated Alfred, before his
companion could finish his sentence, ' ' see yonder are
Indians," and in an instant each sprang behind a
tree.

"They are a,ll ill looking dogs,"^ said Philip.

"Nay," said Alfred, "they look more like painted
deeils than dogs. 'J

"There's a considerable sprinkling of them," re-
plied Philip.

"More than a baker's dozen," responded Alfred.
"Curse them," continued he, "how I should like to
make my report to that tall devil in front."

"Keep cool, Alf— k;eep cool," whispered Philip,
' "we '11 track the infernal dogs to their kennels. ' '

"What direction are they going," asked Alfred.

"Nearly South," responded Philip, "keep silent
till they havp gone by, and then^ we shall follow
them at all hazards'"

In a few moments the Indians were out of sight,
but thinking it best to remain quiet until they had
gone a mile or two in advance, our hunters remained
in ambush some half an hour longer, when they fol-
lowed cautiously in pursuit, but cfid not succeed in
overtaking them. They continued on their trail until
the next day ^.bqut noon, wheh suddenly coming upon
a newly cut road* they lost all signs of the trail.

"What does all this mean," exclaimed Philip on
beholding this unlocked for road.

"Eather mysterious," said Alfred, "but no doubt
it is the work of these infernal savages."

* It was well known that about the middle of June, 18i2, the
.army of Hull left TJrbana and passed through the present counties
of Logan, Hardin, Hancock and Wood into Michigan. They cut a
road through the wilderness, and erected Forts McAfthur and Find-
lay on their rou);e, arriving at the Ms^umee on the 30th of June.

PIONEER LIFE. . 151

"Not exactly," said Philip, "the red devils don't
work on the roads. Too infernal lazy for that, be-
sides I cannot imagine of what benefit such a road
would be to them."

, "Let us follow the south end of this,ro^d," said
Alfred, ' ' until we come to its termination. ' '

"Agreed," ^aid Philip, and the young men pui*-
sued their journey, until they struck the banks of a
beautiful strekm of water, on which stood a small
fort,*i w:hich they ente^^d. Here they learned that
the newly cut road was the one over which Hull led
his army from Urbana. They related to the com-
mander of the Fort their previous adventure, and
particuarly the circumstance of seeing a body of
Indians whose trail they had followed into the road.

The commander was much surprised on hearing
that a party of Indians were lurking in the woods,
so near his quarters. In fact at first he felt dis-
posed to call in question tbe, information, but on be-
ing assured that such was really, the case, he made
every preparation necessary for any emergency.
Our heroes took refuge during the night, and the
next morning, though contrary to the earnest solici-
tations of the officers, they again commenced their
journey and continued until they came to quite a
romantic gprge,t through which ran that beautiful
stream of water, the Auglaize.

"This is nature in its primitive grandeur," said
Philip to his companion. ' ' How I love to gaze upon
such soul inspiring magnificence. Here through this
ravine for ages past, has rolled this ever restless
flood of waters, and here to-day this same flood
heaves and swells and rushes onward to mingle its

* Port Findlay.

t This ravine has since been visited by many travelers. The
location is most grand. All around stand massive trees with luxu-
riant foliage. Since the period of which we write, about (forty
years ago,) a log cabin tavern was -ereeted near the spot where
our hunter first beheld this romantic locality. The log cabin is yet
standing there.

152 PIONEER LIFE. .

waters with those of the great lajies into which they
are poured."

"Upon my word," said Alfred, much interested
in Philip's desertation upon the scene before him,
"you are' something of a romancer. You seem per
fectly enraptured, and I was a going to say almosi
"beside yourself." But I presume your happiness
would be complete with Lily at your — — "

But before he could finish his sentence the crack
of a rifle from some invisible agent on the opposite
side of the ravine was^ borne to their ears; in-
stantly, the young men sprang behind a ledge of
rocks, near the water's edge. Here they were hid
from sight.

"I'he buggar missed his mark, that shot," whis-,
pered Alfred, somewhat agitated.

"Perhaps not," replied Philip, "for I don't think
either you or I constituted that mark."

"Do you not suppose* the rascal shot at us?" in-
terrogated Alfred, in a little astonishment.

"I do not," said Philip. "The report is too dis-
tant. Let us remain here awhile, and perhaps the
fellow will make his appearance."

The place where our young pioneers lay was so
situated as to prevent»the approach of any intruder
without detection ; as the shades of night were once
more gathering over the forest, they determined to
make this their 'camping ground until mol-ning.

The sun had now sunk down, in golden glory', be-
hind the distant hill-tops, "while a full orbed moon
rose high above the eastern horizon, shedding its
mellow light -upon the sparkling waters, as they
rolled murmuringly in their narrow channel. 'Twas
a night scene upon the Auglaize. A host of glitter-
ing stars sparkled in the heavens, blending their
rays with the soft and mellow light of the moon.

As our young heroes lay in this secluded spot,
meditating upon their situation of loneliness and

PIONEER KIPE. , 153

peril, their attention was arrested by the sound of
footsteps over their heads.

"Hist!" said Alfred, as the sound became more
audible. '

"By the ghost of Homer," whispered Philip, "111
send the first red devil to the land of dreams, that
dares to darken the entrance to this cliff. Now,
Alf," continued he, "hold yourself in readiness."

In a few momeuts the cause of their alarm was
.^dsible, for before them stood a half naked young
savage, as th«y supposed, eyeing them with the looks
of a young tiger. In a moment Philip sprang to hi«
feet and j-aised his rifle to shoot him down in his
tracks. Click went the trigger, but his weapon
missed fire. Alfred, on seeing his companion's piece
miss fire, brought his rifle to his shoulder, but not
seeing the Indian attempting to defend himself, did
not discharge it at him.

"Stand," said Alfred, "and deliver up your arms,
or you are a dead dog. "

"Hold! hold!" cried Philip, "My God, Alf, hold
off," and springing to the side of the young man,
clasped him in his arms, exclaiming: "It's Bunty
Billy — My God, Billy, in 'the name of Heaven how
came you here?"

•In a moment Billy recognized his friend, but being
overcome with joy at such an unexpected meeting,
he could not speak. Tears started in his eyes, and
with his arms folded around the neck of his friend,
he sobbed aloud. It was the first time Billy had
shed a tear since he had parted with his friends in
Eichland'^ County. ^If red stood gazing upon the two
with strong emotions of heart.

CHAPTER XXVI.

HISTOEY or 'BUNTY BILLY'S' ADVENTURES SINCE THE

MURDER OF MARTIN EUPrNER— FIGHT WITH

WbLVES — UNEXPECTED MEETING WITH

INDIANS— THEY PROVE FRIENDLY.

' ' They talked of days gone by, and many a scene
Of pleasure in the forest wild;
But most of all, their meeting in a place so strange."

William Buntly, or Bunty Billy as he was gener-
ally called by the early settlers on the Black Fork,
has been introduced in a preceding, chapter. But
since the murder of the Seymour family nothing had
been heard of him. His disappearance from the
Black Fork was a matter of conjecture among the
people. Philip had visited Ruffner 's cabin after the
burial of his parents, and found it dreary and deso-
late. He had made enquiry concerning Billy, but no
one had seen him. It was; therefore, supposed that
he had either been murdered or taken prisoner.

Philip was no little astonished in meeting him-
alone in thte wilderness, so far from the haunts of
civilization. He was also constrained to discred.it
his vision. But contrary to his expectations, he
found that the supposed savage was none other than
the generous hearted Bunty Billy, the history of
whom, since the death of his master, Martin Euffner,
■will form the subject of this chapter.

It will be recollected that Billy was the first to
give the alarm concerning the party of Indians who
murdered the Seymour family, the detail of which
have already been given.

After the Indians had committed the murder thev

PIONEER LIFE. 155

determined to dispatcii Billy also. With this inten-
tion they proceeded immediately to the cabin of
Eutfner, hoping to find him there, but had not pro-
ceeded more than a mile when they met him in the
woods with his rifle, on his way to the Seymour
cabin. The Indians had recognized him" first, and
secreting themselves, waited the boy's approach.

Coming up to them they sprang out of their hid-
ing place and ordered him to halt: The sudden ap-
pearance of the savages alarmed him, and hastily
raising his rifle to a level, fired upon the one nearest
him, but the ball whistled harmlessly by the sav-
age, who rushing upon him was about to smite him
to the earth with his tomahawk, when the strong
arm^of another savage behind him caught his arm.
and held it fast, at the same time protesting against
the murder of the boy.

The savages held a short council as to what they
should, do with him, and after some conversation,,
it was agreed that they should not kill him, but that
they would make a prisoner of him, and sell him to
some Chi^f.

"You must come along with us," demanded one
of the Indians.

"Well, thir," said Billy, "thinth I cannot fight
yer — I can follow yer."

"You brave boy," said his swarthy captor, "you
make good warrior."

"Thoo good to murther women and old folkth,"'
said Billy.

This, with similar conversation, passed between
the Indians and the orphan boy. Billy was alone in
the world — homeless and friendless — his life was at
the mercy of bloody savag'es, yet his manly and inde-
pendent spirit soared above cowardice. Ilis pre-
carious situation would have dampened the feelings
of older persons, but Billy's heart, though but a
boy's, was Indian 'prdof, and fearless of the conse-
quences he spake as he felt.

156 PIONEER LIFE.

As the morning sun was rolling his chariot of
light up the eastern sky, Billy and his captors found
themselves on the banks of the Clear Fork. They
had halted near where the thriving little village of
Bellville now stands, for the purpose of resting and
refreshing themselves. From thence they proceeded
to the banks of the Vernon river, or, as it is often
called, "Owl Creek." Here Billy was transferred
into, the hands of an old Chief who with some of
his tribe, were on their way to the seat of war on
the Maumee. The next morning after their arrival
on the waters of Owl Creek Billy and his new master
took up their line of march.

The old Chief )Was much pleased with the boy, and
gave special instructions to treat him kindly.

Billy recognized his kindness and sought every
opportunity, to gratify his new master.

Towards evening they came to the banks of the
Olentangy or Whetstone River,* where they Struck
their tents, and encamped for the night. Next morn-
ing, they again took up their march, and continued
their journey until they arrived at the banks of the
Sandusky, now in Crawford County, and following
the banks of this stream, finally came to the mouth
of the riVer.

This region was, at this time, the favorite resi-
dencet of the Indians, and here Billy found himself
in the midst of savages. Turn his eyes which way
he would, and nought but painted savages ^et his
gaze. During his residence among the Indians in
this region, Billy had a fine opportunity of becom-
ing acquainted with their manners and customs. He
was a prisoner, yet he had all the privileges of his

* In Marion County.

+ It was in this region that a band of Wyandots once lived
called the "neutral nation." They occupied two villages, which
were cities of refug«, where those who sought safety never failed
to. find it. During all the disastrous contests between the Euro-
peans and natives, they pVeserved the integrity of their character
as peacemakers. All who met on their threshold, met as friends.

PIONEER LIFE. 157

companions. In their sporting exercises he made
himself their superior, which, on several occasions,
he feared would prove dangerous to his life. But
Billy was determined, come life or death, to become
master of the sport. His heroism was always ap-
proved by his master, who would often pat him on
the head, and call him in broken English : ' ' Fine boy
-^brave boy — good boy, etc. ' '

Billy remained in this region for several days,,
during which time he affected entire contentment.
One day the Indians held a council, in which it was
proposed to form a scouting party, for the purpose
of plunder. Accordingly the time was appointed on
which to set out on their expedition. Billy, though-
contrary to his solicitations, was left behind with
the women and children and old men. It was on
this occasion that he meditated his escape. The-
Indians left thie village early on morning, and Billy
the night following. The scouting party left for
the Huron river, and Billy for Fort Findlay, of
which he had hearid the 'direction, and had been as-
sured that it stood upon Blanchard's fork of the
Auglaize.

The evening Billy started upon his lonfely and
perilous journey was dark and rainy. The wilder-
ness was shrouded in gloom. Wild beasts a,nd wild
men surrounded him; but these were no barrier in
his way. He had been raised in the woods, amidst
the yells and howls of savages and wild beasts. His
trusty rifle was upon his shoulder, his scalping knife
hung at his side, and in his bosom he carried a heart
magnanimous — above fear and cowardice.

Billy followed up the bank of the river till day-
light, when, after securing a shelter, he determined
to remain in it till dark, fearing the Indians might
be in pursuit of him.

During this night he was attacked by a gang of
wolves, but he managed to keep them at bay. In
the course of an hour or two after he had started

158 \ ' PIOWEEB LIFE.

from his shelter his eyes caught the glimpse of a
light some distance ahead of him in the woods. Mov-
ing cautiously towards it he discovered it to be the
<;amp fire of a small band of Indians. Examining
ihe camp carefully he perceived that the party con-
sisted of three siavages, either of whom he could
Jiave laid dead in his seat, but fighting them was out
of the (juestion. Watching them fof some moments
he discovered that they were in great glee, making
merry over their supper, after which they, lay down
-to rest. Billy kept quiet for some time after the
savages lay down, until he imagined they were
asleep, when he agaia commenced hi« journey. After
traveling as far up the river as he deemed necessary,
he crossed the stream and proceeded westward, hop-
ing to strike the banks of Blanchard's Fork, and
ihen the Fort'. Continuing his course till morning,
iie again sought shelter, and laid by till evening,
-when he again continued his course, as he supposed,
ipwards the Fort. But Billy had missed his course
and, instead of making Fort Findlay, his place of
■destination, he arrived at the gorge or ravine whei'e
he met his friend, Billy Seymour.

Billy's adveinture since leaviiig the Sandusky was
attended with no danger other than that arisin^^
from the attack of wolves. But with these he was
familiar, and knew well their disposition and mode
of attack. The report of the rifie which Philip and
Tiis companion had heard, was produced by Billy,
who had discharged it* at one of the^e creatures.
The animal had followed hiin, but, Billy delayed his
progress by giving him the contents of his rifle.

After Philip > Seymour had recovered from the
surprise into which the unexpected meeting of Billy
had thrown hinl, the two friends, with Alfred, re-
tired to the shelter under the bank, where they en-
tered into a conversation, in which each party re-
vealed to the other his adventures.

"Billy," said Philip, after the former had given

PIONEER LIFE. ■ISO'

tHe latter a history of his adventure, "I am very
glad to see you once more. I have often wondered,
what had become pf'you since the murder of our
friends on the Black Fork. I had come to the con-
clusion that the red devils had taken your scalp,
too."

' ' Thee here, Mr. Themour, thee here, ' ' said Billy,
holding out his rifle, "do you think, thir, that this
thooting iron will permit any of theth curthed rath-
kalth to inthult my dreaming thell in thucth a ridicu-
lous manner."

"All, Billy," replied Philip, "your 'shooting iron'
is by no mealns a sure guard against such an act of
Indian cruelty. Many a brave and fearless hunter
has fallen a sacrifice to savage^ cruelty, notwith-
statuding his means of defence."

"Cuth their picthurth," responded Billy, "they
can't thcalp me 'fore I give 'them one dothe of
melted lead anybody. ' '

"Some backbone in this fellow, Alf," said Philip,
addressing himself to his companion: "Billy's the
real grit and no mistake."

"There's none," replied Alf red, "that I have seen
in my travels, in whom combine such heroism and
sagacity, considering his age. I am truly proud of
his courage, and shall hope to have him as our for-
est companion, provided he would be pleased to
j6in our expedition."

"That is just what will please him," said Philip.
^ 'What say you, Bily?"

"Whell, thir, thinth yer have axed me a thivil
quethion, I muth anther yer," said Billy. "The fact
ith I'm in for anything like thoothing Inthunth.
Thod blathod their thkinth."

"But, Billy, you must be subject to our admoni-
tion," said Philip, "do not expose yourself and us
incautiously. ' '

"I understand yer, thir," said Billy, "but muth

160 PIONEER LIFE.

thay yer admonithion itli of no uth in cath' of an
attack from thnaktJi."

At the mention of the word snakes, Philip's grav-
ity was disturbed — he was forced to give vent to a-
fit of laughter, as his mind wandered back to the
battle of snakes on Clear Fork, and at the recollec-
tions of his horrible dream on that eventful hight,
he once more uttered a bitter curse on the snake
family, after which he related to Alfred ail the par-
ticulars concerning that adventure.

Alfred was much amused on hearing Philip's ac-
count of this affair, and Billy would, every now and
then, as an opportunity presented itself, look at
Philip with one of^his rougish smiles, and exolajm:
"Cuth the thnakth." ^ .

Several hours had thus passed away and the little
party had enjoyed themselves with the most heart-
felt |iappiness. Weary with conversation they lay
down to rest with their rifles under their heads.
Their slumber was unbroken, and they did not awake
;till morning twilight was visible.

As soon as our^ heroes had pattaken of some re-
freshments, they left their shelter and once more
plunged into the forest and continued their course
in a southerly direction until they came in sight of
an Indian village,* on the banks of a beautiful
streamt of water. Near the village was a fine orch-
ard of fruit treest of about ten or fifteen years'
standing. These trees were laden with fruit. Upon
inspection they found the principle' inhabitants to
be old men, women and children.

"What next," said Alfred, as they came to a halt

* This village was called Wap-agh-ko-notta and was the resi-
dence of the Shawnees after they were driven from Piqua, bv Gen.
Clark.

t Hog river, so called by the Indians, from the circumstance
of Mr. McKee, the British Indian agent, driving his swine along
the stream as he was fleeing from the incursions of Gen. Logan in
1786. It was also called Ottawa river.

t Supposed to have been- planted by Johnny Appleseed.

PIONEEB LIFE. 161

a few hundred yards from ttre village, "shall wf
enter this village and rely upon the mercy of the
savages, or shall we retreat before we are discov-
ered?" ,

"Thee here, Misther Alf," interrupted Billy,
"Thee here, there 'th no going gack with thith thild,
until I thee thum of the thquaw, if nothing elthe."

"Come, come, Billy," said Philip, "you mustn't
be so venturesome; you'll get us into a bad fix by
being too heroic. It won't do, you must be obedient
or we'll never live to see Lilly's face again. You
know, Billy, if you were to get into a snap,l am
bound to help you out, therefore, you must not put
our lives in danger by being so desperately reck-
less." ,

"Hist," said Alfred, "I hear the sound of foot-
steps among the brush, I'm afraid we're caught this
time."

The young hunters, each sheltered himself behind
a tree and held himself in readiness for defence, but
scarcely had they found shelter when the voice of a
lone canine sentinel broke the stillness of the night,
with a good English accentuation of "Bow, wow,
wow."

' ' Thod blatht the dog, ' '' said Billy, and raising his
rifle to his shoulder, was about to give the animal
a quietus, but, Philip prevented him.

"Get out^-go home, you infernal whelp," said
Philip, as the animal continued his howling. But
the dog had never been trained in Noah Webster's
school of language, and as the Dutchman would say
he could " )iix forthay,'^ and therefore he howled
with more vehemence.

"What the deuce shall we do?" asked Alfred; "if
we retreat the dog will pursue us, and bring out all'
the warriors of the village on our track, and if we
stay here we shall be surrounded and taken pris-
srs."
'Well, our dilemma is none of the pleasantest,

162 PIONEEB LIFE. '

and I am lost to know how to decide," said Philip.
"But it is my opinion "

At this moment a combination of yells greeted
their ears. The savages had heard the barking. In-
stantly they hastened to the place where they found
our heroes. Upon discovery, Philip stepped from
behind a tree, and advancing toward an old Chief,
pro£fered him his hand, which the old man readily
accepted. Alfred and Billy came next, 'each in turn
shaking hands with the old man and his warriors.
The old Chief invited them to the village, where they
spent the evening and the next day in the most
agreeable manner. Some of the inhabitants could
speak the English language quite fluently.

It was during their stay in this village that Philip
formed the acquaintance of several friendly Chiefs,
one of whom will form the subject of an interesting
chapter in this narrative.

After spending a day or two with thfese friendly
Indians, our young heroes again commenced their
adventure, shaping their course in the direction of
the Muskingum. They had learned from the old
Chief that a party of Indians had passed near their
village in that direction, and Philip and Alfred deter-
mined to follow them; Wfe shall leave our heroes in
pursuit of the savages, and give the reader a short
sketch of history, relating to the ^dliage of Wa-pa-
kon-et-ta as was made known by; the leading Chief,
Black Hoof.

CHAPTEE XXVII.

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF BLACK HOOF, THE DISTIN-
GUISHED SHA-WA-NOES CHIEF.

"And thus while seated on his couch of green,
The old man talked of many a scene
, Of days gone by. Of many a legend old.
And niagie tale."

Black Hoof, the old Indian Chief mentioned in the
last chapter, belonged to the Sha-wan-oes tribe. He
was a warrior of high rank and notoriety ; and was
born in Florida, a few years after which, with a por-
tion of the tribe, he removed to Ohio and Pennsyl-
vania. Black Hoof, with others of his tribe, were
present at Braddock's defeat, near Pittsburg, in
1755. He was engaged in all the wars from that
time nntil the treaty of Greenville in 1795. He was
noted for his cunning, sagacity and experience ; and
united with these, was his fierce and desperate brav-
ery. He was bold and daring almost to recklessness.
Being the inveterate foe to the white man, his ven-
gence knew scarcely any limits ; and under his toma-
hawk and scalping knife many a white man had met
his eternal fate. Black Hoof maintained that no
peace should be made, nor any negotiations entered
into with the whites, "except on condition that the
latter should repass the mountains, and leave the
Mississippi valley to the sole occupancy of the native
tribes. These were his sentiments, and he exierted
all the energies of his mind and body in carrying
them out.

Black Hoof was the ora,tor of his tribe, and was
well versed in the traditions of his peopl'e. But al-

164 . PIONEEK LIFE.\

though he was a stern and uncompromising enemy
of the whites, and. althou'gh, through a long series
of forty years he had nerved his arm in a hundred
bloody battles, yet he became at length convinced,
that the struggles, of his race against the encroach-
ment of the wMtes were in vain. A deep conviction
of this truth rested upon his mind and he communi-
cated his apprehensions to his tribe. The campaign
of General Wayne completely overthrew all hopes
of their success, and he abandoned the project for-
ever. He signed the treaty of peace at Greenville,
and continued a faithful friend to the whites ever
afterward. He died at the advanced age of 110
years, a short time previous to the treaty of 1831.*

In the war of 1812, Tecumseh and his brother, the
prophet, paid him a visit for the purpose of enlist-
ing him in their cause, but he pre-emptorily refused
them; and although he did not personally take, an
active part in the war, yet he exerted a salutary in-
fluence in favor of the Americans.

Sufch was Black Hoof, the distinguished Sha-wa-
noes Chief. Philip and* his companions were highly
entertained and pleased with Mm ; and although an
untutored savage, they found him nevertheless to
be a most graceful and pleasing man.t

They had conversed with him, Avith freeness and
interest, and he had tevealed to thena a most thrill-
ing acount of. his adventures for forty years past. >

Black Hoof was the particular friend of Captain
Pipe; they had fought side by side against the
whites up to the treaty of 1Z95. He had learned of

* This treaty, was made with the Seneeas of LewistOn, and the
Sha-wa-noes of Wa-pa-kon-etta, by James Gardner and Col. McII-
vain, Commissioners appointed by the Government. Thfe terms
offered to these Indians were liberal, and they consented to be
removed be^'ond the Mississippi. They were removed to the Indian
Territory on Kansas river in 1833. Poor Black Hoof, his remains
are on our. soil, while his tribe roam over the lands of the far West.

t Col. Johnson describes this man as the most graceful Indian
he had ever seen, and as possessing the most natural and happy-
faculty of communicating his ideas.

PIONEEE LIFE. 165

the burning of Greehtovn, and the massacre of the
whites on the Black Fork, and expressed a deep ab-
horance against the whole proceeding, but laid the
blame of the whole affair upon Col. Greer and
Kratzes. He had been informed of his friend's
(Capt. Pipe) removal to • Cleveland, but knew noth-
ing of the circumstance of his daughter's mysterious
disappearance.

On being told of this affair, he seemed somewhat
perplexed, and deeply affected. He applauded the
gallantry of Philip and his companions, and prom-
ised them the protection of his tribe while in his
dominions.

Before dismissing the history of Black Hoof, we
must notice one or two other traits in his char3,cter
which in Indian life seem quite remarkable. It is
well known that Indians practice polygamy; and
are generally in favor of sacrificing the lives of pris-
oners at the stake. These two enormities Black
Hoof condemned. He lived 40 years with one wife,
and never put to death a single prisoner by fire. He
was not present at the burning of Crawford, or per-
haps that unfortunate man might have been spared
the pains of such a horrible death.
> With Ijhese considerations concerning the life and
character of this remarkable man, we are prepared
to fully appreciate his sterling integrity.

Philip and his companions left the old Chief much
entertained, delighted and refreshed, with the under-
standing that they would return to the village on
their way back from the Muskingum.

CHAPTEE XXVIII.

PHILIP AND HIS COMPANIONS RESUME THEIK JOUENEY—

MEETING WITH INDIANS ON THE 'BLACK HAND NAB-

EOWS'— THEY MEET A COMPANY OF SCOUTS.

The captive's hand hath laid him low,
He knew not that his foes were near,

In death he sleeps, and life's warm glow
Has fled his bleeding body there.

Philip and his companions, aftet leaving the vil-
lage of Wap-a-konet-ta, shaped their course towards
the head waters of the Sciota; and proceeding down
its banks came to, a white settlement, in which thejr
found a commodious Block House,* where they were
hospitably entertained. They communicated to the
settlers the object of their adventure in this region,
and made enquiry as to the condition of the country
through which they had to pass on their way to
Zanesville.

It was a cold and wintry morning when our heroes
left the Block House, and once more plunged into
the wild woods. Winter was now set in — dark clouds
and dark days — deep snows, chilling winds and bit-
ing frosts were now to be encountered. The pros-
pect before them was, to use a modern phrase, "a
little mixed." But the bold and fearless hearts of
Philip and his companions cowered not before the
approach of cold or danger. Their object was one
of humanity, and upon the success of their adventure
depended the happiness of the fearless and generous
hearted leader of that little band. They were enured

* This Block House was situated in what is now called Dela-
ware County.

PIONEER LIFE. 167

to hardships, privations and dangers. Each one was
homeless and friendless, and dependent upon his
own exertions for support and protection. Reader,
place yourself, by imagination, in their condition —
in the heart of a dreary wilderness, exposed to the
inclemency of the weather — rain, sleet, snow and
cold ; while wild beasts and savage foes roamed the
woods in all directions.

"Billy," said Philip, "I'm afraid that camping
out these cold nights will be hurtful to your health.
I am almost sorry I did not prevail upon you to re-
main in the block house till spring."

"Thirtainly, Mr. Themour, "you're mithtakenin
yer man. Billy Buntly'th not the thap to freethe ath
long ath ther'th a bearth thkining the wobdth with
a thprinkling of wool on the outhide."

' ' True, true, Billy, I didn 't, think of that. Bear 's
wool is by no means scarce; with such a suit
old 'Boreas' may come blustering and howling
among the forest trees with breath as cold as
icicles. ' '

"And who the mithief ith old Mr. 'Borethf Never
hearn tell of thuch an individthual in all my born
dayth," asked Billy, somewhat at a loss to compre-
hend the meaning of the word "Boreas."

The apparent earnestness with which Billy asked
the question, completed \^ith the comic expression of
his countenance, constrained Philip and his com-
panion ,to indulge in a hearty laugh. Aware that
Philip and Alfred were indulging a laugh at his ex-
pense, Billy collected his wits and cooly replied:

"Yeth, yeth, now I underthand yer — thod blatht
yer — thith Boreath, — they thay ith death on
thnaketh — they can't thand hith lookth no how."

"Bravo, Billy," cried' Alfred, "your a trump, by
ging; Phil, come, own up — Billy's got you."

"Quarters, Billy, quarters," cried Philip, "I'll
surrender ' '

But 'ere he could complete his sentence his atten-

168 PIONEER LIFE.

tion was arrested by a party of three Indians, some
distance in the advance of him, and softly calling
upon his comrades, bid them conceal themselves be-
hind the trunk of a fallen tree.

In a few moments the savages halted, and seat-
ing themselves upon a rising knoll, commenced sat-
isfying their appetites with th^ir luncheon. From
the voracity with which they devoured their food,
our heroes supposed they had traveled and fasted
for some considerable length of time.

"How I should like to give that thancy looking
thevil there a leading pill for the purpothe of tharp-
ening hith appetite, and aiding him in hith digeth-
ion," said Billy, after eyeing him for a moment.
• "Ah, but Billy," replied Philip, "he might not
happen to accept the dose, or in other words, you
might fail in sending the prescription into his bread
basket at such distance, and in that case the patient
might assume the office of surgeon, and trouble you
for the use of your scalp."

"Well, thir," replied Billy, "if eather of you will
dothe your man, I'll thwear by the man in the moon
that I'll thicken mine."

"Why bless your life, Billy," replied Philip, "you
wouldn't attempt a shot at so great a distance, when
there is such slim chance of escape, in case of a fail-
ure. Why, Billy, it is full two hundred and fifty
yards to where they are sitting. ' '

"I can thoot him — I can thoot the thevil himthelf
at twithethe dithtance. It only dependth on you
and Alf to do your parth."

"And are you really in earnest, Billy?" asked
Philip.

"Thirtainly, thir, Mr. Theymour, "I l^noth what I
thay."

"Billy," replied Philip, "I am proud of your
courage and bravery, but I must protest against
their exhibition on this occasion. I thitik it rather
doubtful case to interrupt these red devils before

PIONEEE LIFE. ' 169'

nighf. We are in f6,r a contest with them certain,
bill; our attack must be under cover of darkness. ' '

Our heroes thus lay secreted for some time con-
versing in a low tone of voice, during which the
savages seemed to enjoy themselves in the highest
degree. After finishing their meal they proceeded
on their journey, followed by our heroes until they
came to a romantic gorge,, known to the early hunt-
ers by the name of the "Black Hand Narrow.^"*
Here the Indians made their camp for the night.

The sun had gone down behind a heavy bank of
dark clouds, as oUr hunters arrived at these ' ' Nar-
rows." They had traced the Indians into the de-
file, but fearing to enter, until they "had reconnoit-
ered, they did not pursue them.

The Narrows were da,rk and gloomy, and the
wilderness around them cheerless and forbidding.
The young men were in the midst of dangers, but
these dangers had no terrors to disarm them of their
courage. ,

"Alfred," said Philip, "you and Billy remain
here, while I make a small circuit to the top of the
cliffs. The red, devils are in this gorge, and will
make /their camp in the most secure position. In
case I am attacked you can come to my assistance.
But until discovered you must remain quiet. " /

Philip then proceeded noiselessly and cautiously
to the top of the cliff, and halting on the very verge,
discovered a light beneath him, but could discover
no signs of the savages themselves.

It was evident to Philip that the camp fire was
under his feet, and deflected the light on the oppo-
site side. The side of the narrows on which he stood
seemed considerably more elevated than the oppo-

* This is probably one of the most picturesque spots in OJiio.
Cliffs of eneromus rooks lin« the sides. In some places the rocks
hang over in a semi-circular form, on the under surface of which
the Indians have drawn the outlines of wild animals, etc., and
also that of a huge black hand.

. 170 PIONEER LIS'E.

site side. Eetnrning to his companions he bade them
follow him to the opposite bank, where they discov-
ered the three savages seated under the shelving of
the rocks immediately under the cliff where Philip
had stood. A bright fire lighted up the gloomy
gorge, and the unsuspecting savages were making
merry over their evening meal, little dreaming that
the eyes of their white foes were upon them. Their
camp was, as Philip had expected, in the most inac-
cessible part of the gorge. They could not approach
them at either end of the narrows without detection,
but from their position on the lower bank of the
narrows, they had an uninterrupted view of the sav-
ages.

' ' Now 's your chance, ' ' ^aid Philip. ' ' Billy, single
out your man, and make your aim sure."

"Well, thir," whispered Billyj "I will thettle my
account with that devilith ugly looking thavage. He
juth lokth like the thame thap who took me prithoner
on the Black Fork, and I want to thoot him becauth
he juth lookth like him."

"A very good reason, Billy," said Philip, "he
shall be your man." Then turning to Alfred, he
said:

"Alf, you single out that fellow on the left, and I
will take the other. One, two, three," said Philip
in a whisper, and the report of three rifles rang out
upon the night air of that deep and gloomy gorge,
bringing almost instantaneous death to three unsus-
pecting savages within. But in a few minutes after
the sound of their rifles had died away in the dis-
tant forest, the sound of advancing footsteps were
heal"d some distance in their rear

"Good Heavens!" exclaimed Philip, we are pur-
sued by Indians— each one of you fly to a tree and
re-load as speedily as possible."

"Let 'em come," said Billy, "they shall have a
warm recepthun."

Accordingly each hunter sprang behind the near-

PIONEER LIFE. 171

est tree and in a moment or two was ready for ac-
tion.

The report of their rifles had died away, and a
deep silence settled around them. Each listened
eagerly to hear the sound of the footsteps, which
had alarmed them, but all was silent as the grave. -

'Twas a dark and dreary night. The heavens-
were over-cast with cl-ouds, and the pattering rain
had commenced falling. A cool November wind was
stirring the tree tops with a low murmuring sound-
while each drop of rain as it fell to the earth con-
tributed its mite in the music of "confused sounds
of falling waters and moaning winds."

Our heroes remained in this position, some fifteen,
or twenty minutes, without hearing one single sound,,
save that of the pattering rain ; and just as Philip
was about to call his companions to follow him down
the Cliff, into the narrows where the dead savages
were lying, the sound of human voices was borne to-
his ears.

"What could that report. of fire arms mean?"
asked the voice in good English, some three or four
rods in the rear of where our heroes stood.

"Who comes here?" shouted Philip as the sound
of his voice reached his ears.

"Friends to the white man, but foes to the red,"
replied the voice. "Who are you, and what is your
business here?"

"I, sir," replied Philip, "am at the head of a
party of scouts, in search of marauding bands of
Indians. We are lying here in ambush, and if you
are a friend of the American cause, meet me half
way between our warriors."

Accordingly the two commanders met each other
under the cover of his own men. In afew moments
more, and the two parties were together, and de-
scending the cliff entered the narrows, halting at
the campfire of the savages, whom they found al-
ready dead. "Poor fellows," said Alfred, "they

172 PIONEER LIFE.

have eaten their last supper, and sung their last
song. ' '

"Not tho poor, Mr. Alf, ath you thuppose," said
Billy, "thee thith fellow that I thettled with ith
in good marketable order. Thoundth, Mr. Themour,
thith ith the thame thkamp that took me prithoner.
Thod blath me if it aint. I knoth him by that thcar
on the thide of hith nothe."

The two parties took refuge in .the narrows till
morning when they parted, the one retracing their
steps tp Zanesville, ^the other, (Philip and his com-
panions) towards the Lake, first visiting the village
of Wapakonetta, for the purpose of obtaining an-
other conversation with Black Hoof. But on their
arrival they found that the old Chief, with a small
party of his warrior's, had left the village to visit
Capt. Pipe at his subterranean residence in Erie
County, of which Philip had infomied him on his
previous visit. Black Hoof had left instructions-
with his people to entertain them hospitably, in
case they should return during his absence.

CHAPTER XXIX.

A BBIEF SKETCH OF THE MUBDEEED INDIANS— HEROIC-
ACT OF ALEXANDER M'CONNEL.'

The party of Indians mentioned in our last chap-
ter had been taken prisoners near New Philadel-
phia, in Tuscarawas. County, and conveyed to Sen-
eca, through Zanesville, which was, at this time, a
thriving little village. Here the Indians were lodged
in prison over night, during which time some of the
settlers paid them a visit. The Indians could, to-
some extent, understand and speak the English lan-
guage.

At first when they were taken, they appeared sul-
len and refused to enter into conversation; but
gradually they became more cheerful and communi-
cative. Being assured that they would be treated
kindly, and that no one should harm them, they gave-
a full statement of their lives.

It appears from this statement that they belonged
to the Delaware tribe, and that one of them was oner
of the five that attacked the Seymour cabin. This
one called himself John Buckskin, and state?! that
after the whites had burned their village on the
Black Fork, he vowed vengeance on every white man
who came into his power; that he had formed the
plot to murder the Seymour family and plunder
them of their money; that he was also in the battle
at the Copus cabin, where he was wounded in the
arm with a bullet. He also stated that his own arm
had slain tine "Blach Fork Dutchman," (meaning
Ruffner,) whom he represented as one of the most
powerful men he had ever contended with. This,
with some other facts connected with the depreda-

174 PIONEER LIFE.

tions on the Black Fork settlement, already known
io the reader, were made known to the settlers of
2anesville, by this Indian.

On being asked whether he did not think he did
wrong in murdering the innocent people there, he
replied in the negative. He further stated that
Tinder similar circumstances he would dosd again.
He then asked for some tobacco, which being given
him, he divided with his companions, and lighting
their pipes they sat down, and engaged in smoking
and conversing in his own language.

The next morning after their imprisonment in
Zanesville, a crowd of spectators gathered around
the window on the outside. One of these asked them
if they could sing. They replied in the affirmative,
and being requested to do so, one of the Indians com-
menced an Indian song, to which he put a Christian
air. On being asked where he learned that tune, he
replied from Jesus Christ at Gnadenhutten. He was
asked to sing again, but he refused, stating that
white people did not like Indians.

"Yes," replied one of the bystanders, "we do."

* ' You lie, ' ' replied the Indian.

"No, I don't," said the spectator.

"Well, then," said the Indian, "if you like me,
^ve me one fippenybit. ' '

The spectator refused.

■"ITinew you lied," responded the Indian.

This enraged the white man and he resolved to
w^reak his vengeance upon the savages. Accordingly
he secured the services of two young men, and ac-
companied the officer. Gen. A. Shane, then a Lieu-
tenant recruiting for the United States Service, to
Seneca. On their journey to Seneca, which was then
Harrison's headquarters, they staid all night in New-
ark, where the offended soldier purchased some poi-
son for the purpose of poisoning the Indians. The
physician from whom the poison was obtained made
the same known to the Lieutenant,, but concealed the

PIONEER LIFE. ,175

name of the purchaser. The officer then took the
more caution to protect the lives of the Indians until
they arrived at Seneca, where they were discharged
some time afterwards. After their discharge they
made their way back towards Goshen, followed by
the insulted white man and his companions, who de-
serted the Fort on the next day after the discharge
of the Indians, and were in pursuit of them when
they met Philip Seymour and his party at the nar-
rows, and on examining the bodies of the Indians
they recognized them as the same party which they
had guarded to Seneca.

While on a visit in the southeastern part of Knox
County, the writer received the facts contained in the
conversation of the Indians in Zanesville, from an
elderly gentleman, who was one of the spectators at
the prison window. In corroboration of the testi-
mony of this gentleman respecting these Indians, is
that of another whose name is not given, who com-
municated a more extended detail of circumstances
connected with this expedition to the author of the
"Ohio Collections," part of which, referring to the
capture of these Indians, we here present to the
reader :

"Shortly after Hull's surrender three Indians,
said to be unfriendly, had arrived at Goshen. Some
time before their arrival several persons were mur-
dered on the Mohican, near Mansfield. The knowl-
edge of this circumstance created much alarm, and
an independent company of cavalry, under the com-
mand of Alexander McConnel, their captain was so-
licited by the citizens to pursue them. The Indians
were traced to a small Island near Goshen. McConnel
plunged his horse into the river and crossed it, at
the same time ordering his men to follow ; but none
chose to obey him. He dismounted, hitched his horse,
and with a pistol in each hand, commenced search-
ing for them. He had gone but a few steps into the
interior of the Island when he discovered one of

176 PIONEER LIFE.

them with his rifle lying at full length behind a log.
He presented his pistol — the Indian jumped to his
feet — but McConnel disarmed him. He also^ found
the others, seized their arms, and drove them before
him and marched them to the New Philadelphia
jail."

The murders committed on the Mohican had
aroused the vengeance of the settlers, and as soon as
they heard that three of the supposed murderers
were lodged in the jail at Philadelphia, a company of
about 40 men organized near Wooster, marched there
for the purpose of dispatching them without trial,
but were prevented by the courage of some two or
three citizens.

CHAPTER XXX.

BLACK HOOJF'S VISIT TO CAPT. JPIPE— A- JOYFUL MEETING
-T-BEAVER, THE YOUNG DELAWARE WAEEIOB, VOLUN-
TEERS HIS SERVICES IN THE RECOVERY OF
LILLY PIPE— BIOGRAPHICAL SKETQH
OP BEAVER.

An aged Chieftain from his village strayed,
A friendly visit to his friend he paid
To talk of her around whose being clung
Deep njystery. None knew frdra whence she 'sprung,
But him — ^whom she called father dear.
And him who p aid the visit in his cave so drear.
/

As already stated in the preceding chapter, Philip
had informed Black Hoof of the abduction of Cap-
tain Pipe's daughter, and aso of his present resi-
dence. He had given him this information, with the
fijU assurance of meeting with the Captain's ap-
proval, as he had heard him express his determina-
tion of holding a council with Black Hoof if in his
power.

The next day after Philip had left the village of
Wa-pa-kon-etta, Black Hoof called around him sev-
eral of his most active and daring your warriors,
and communicated to them his intention of starting
out on -an expedition, to visit his friend ; and after
making such preparations as necessary for the ad-
venture, he sat out upon his journey, arriving at the
grotto the next day, a little after nightfall. Before
entering the cavern, he gave orders to Tiis men to re-
oonnoiter the country around, in order to ascertain if
there were any spies in the woods, and on being as-
sured that the "coast was clear,", he and his little
party entered the cave, which had been well known

178 • 4 PIONEEK LIFE.

to him for many years. He found, to his no small
astonishment and disappointment, that the cave was
unoccupied — Captain Pipe was gone. No sound was
heard to break the deep and glopmy silence within its
sombre walls. He called aloud, but was only an-
swered by the echo of his own voice. "This is
strange," said he; "there is a mystery connected
with this affair. We have been deceived \>f the wh^te
warrior, and I shall — ^"

But before he had finished his sentence the noise
of advancing footsteps were heard at the mouth of
the cavern, and the next moment two Indian Chiefs
entered the cave, where they were hailed by Black
Hoof and his company.

The reader has, no doubt, anticipated one of those
to be Capt. Pipe. The Captain had taken it into his
head to visit Fort Seneca, a military post built in the
late war which stood a few miles north of the present
site of Tiffin. Pipe's object in visiting this stockade,
was to secure the aid of some young and active In-
dian warriors, friendly to . the American cause, to
assist him and young Seymour in . recovering his
daughter; and, while here, a young Delaware war-
rior, named Beaver, was introduced to him by Gen.
Harrison, Pipe's intimate friend. Pipe soon made
known to Beaver the object of his visit; and the
young Chief freely volunteered his services to the
old Chieftain, and in a few days afterward accom-
panied him to his residence in the cave, where they
found the noted Black Hoof and his warriors.

On entering the cave. Pipe was at first no little
surprised on seeing it in the possession of a band
of Indians, but was much pleased on beholding one
of them to be, his tried and cherished friend. Black
Hoof. The two friends greeted each other with ttat
warmth and affection peculiar to the Indian charac-
ter, and after they had thUs passed through their
customary salutations, the two , old warriors en-
tered into a conversation respecting the missing In-

PIONEER LIFE. i 179

diaii maiden. -Black Hdof related to his friend the
adventure of Philip up to the time of his first visit
to his village, while the Captain made known to him
all the particulars of his history up to thfe present
time.

Wheil they had finished their conversation, the
two old m>en left the party and retired some dis-
tance into the woods, and after carefully examining
•the forest around them and finding that- no human
eyes were upon them, they sat down upon a fallen
tree, where they entered into a private conversa-
tion. After conversing for some time, the two
Chiefs excavated' the. earth near the root of a huge
oak, in which they deposited a small tin box, and
after filling in the earth and covering the spot with
leaves, they returned to the cave. After remain-
ing with the Captain over night, Black Hoof and
his warriors returned to their village.

Captain Pipe ^nd young Beaver were now alone
in the cave, concocting measures foi* finding out the
destination of Lilly. As this young Chief is to
act a prominent part in a subsequent chapter, we
shall take the liberty of introducing a notice of his
character to the reader, in connection with this
chapter.

Young Beaver was a Delaware warrior. In per-
son he was handsome and prepossessing. His full
black eye was sharp and piercing. In stature he
was about five feet ten inches, ' robust and athletic.
His countenance indicated a bold yet generous
heart.' He was the pride of his nation, esteemed, re-
spected and honored by all. who knew him. His souL
rose above deceit and treachery; and, for his brav-
ery and daring in the hour of danger, his humanity
in the hour of distress, and his integrity to any con-
fidence reposed in him he had no superiors. Be-
sides this, young Beaver was in modern parlance,,
the lion of his tribe, and many a dark eyed maiden
turned her eyes towards his person. In short "the

180 PIONEER LIFE.

qualities of both his heart, and head were of more
than ordinary excellence; for nature had bestowed
upon him lineaments of gracefulness and Indian
beauty. His motions were those of harraony, and
his actions unrestrained anxi easy. Such is but a
meager dgscription of the admirable qualities of this
young warrior.

It may not be out of pllace here to relate an inci-
dent in the life of Beaver, which should be known
and read by all coming generations, as a memorial
of his unimpeachable integrity and good feeling to-
wards his friends.

During the war of 1812, the friendly Indians, par-
ticularly the Delawares, Sha-wa-noes and Senecas,
were invited to join the American cause ; and quite
a number belonging to these tribes accepted the of-
fer; among this number was Beaver, who, as we
have said, was introduced to Captain Pipe, at Sen-
eca. Young Beaver's father and General Harrison
had been upon ternds of unbroken friendship. The
father had been put to death, like many others, for
practicing sorcery, and the son then ten years of
a^e, fell under the protection of Harrison. For this
kindness the son entertained the most exalted re-
spect toward his benefactor.

Among the number who also enlisted under the
American flag was a wretch, who had insinuated
himself among them with the intention of assassi-
nating the General. This fellow's name was Blue
Jacket, and belonged to the Shawnee tribe. He was
not the noted Blue Jacket, however, who signed the
treaty of peace at Greenville.

The personal appearance and disposition of Blue
Jacket were as repulsive and disgusting as those of
Beaver were attractive and pleasing. He had for-
merly resided in Wa-pa-kon-etta, which he had left
for some considerable time, returning a few days
before the warriors set out for the seat of war. He
told the Chiefs that he had been out hunting along

PIONEER LIFE.

181

ihe waters of the Wabash, and that he wished to
join the army about to start for Seneca. Not doubt-
ing his hoiiesty of intention, his name was enrplledi
among the number of warriors. ■ Upon their arrival
at McArthur's Block House (which was a fortifica-
tion built in the late war on the Sciota river, on
Hull's road, in H9,rdin County) they halted and en-
■camped for the purpose of receiving provisions from
the Deputy Indian Agent, Col. McPherson, who re-
sided there.

Blue Jacket had made a confident of a young
warrior, who also was warmly attached to Beaver.
This warrior was of the same tribe to which Blue
Jacket belongesd. Calling him aside,, he communi-
cated to his friend his intention to murder General
Harrison on his arrival at Fort Seneca, and request-
ed him lo assist him. His friend refused, and en-
deavored to dissuade him from so base an act. But
Blue Jacket declared that be would assassinate the
General, if he knew that afterwards he would be
"cut into pieces not bigger than his thumb nail!"

Happily for General Harrison, the confident of
Blue Jacket was also a tried friend of Beaver's.

There are no people on earth more faithful in
keeping secrets than the ihdians, but each warrior
has a friend, to whom he will reveal all his secrete.
Blue Jacket's confident sought his friend Beavei-,
and communicated the intentions of his friend -to
him, at the same time enjoining secrecy upon him.

This intelligence placed Beaver in an embarrass-
ing situation, for should he disclose what he had
beard,, he would betray' his friend, which was too re
pugnant to his feelings to be endured, and he deter
mined he would not violate his word. On the otlier
band he could not endure the thoughts of seeing his
father's friend, and his own patron, basely mur-
dered, when in his power to prevent it. But how to
apprise him of his danger without sacrificing his
word he could not tell. For the first time in his life

182 ' PIONEEE LIFE. ' ^

Bea,ver was placed in a seemingly inextricable di-
lemma. S^or some time he sat in silent meditation;
he colmed the matter over and over in his mind.
While he thus sat in hesitation, the notorious , as-
sassin' came into the Delaware camp. The eyes of
Beaver fell upon hini, as he came, staggering with
intoxication, and breathing vengeance upon Col.
McPherson, who had just turned him out of his
house for disorderly conduct. The sight of the trai-
tor caused the indignation of Beaver, and arising:
from liis seat he advanced towards him. His keen
black eye was full of fire — ^his bosom heaved with
wild emotions, and with a firm and unfaltering voice
he thus addressed him: '

"You must be a great warrior — you will not only
kill the white man for treating you as you deserve,
but you will also murder our father, the American
Chief, and bring disgrace and mischief upon us all,
but you shall do neither. I will serve you as I
wduld a mad ^og ; ' ' and so saying , he raised his
hatchet, and with one furious blow he laid the cul-
prit dead at his feet. Then turning to some of his
tribe present, he said: '

"There, take him to the camp of his tribe, and
tell them who it was that did the deed."

The Sha-wa-noes applauded the conduct of Bea-
ver, and rejoiced at their happy escape from the ig-
nominy into which the murder of the General would
have thrown them.

On their arrival at Seneca, the principal war
Chief, of the Sha-wa-noes requested pei-mission to
sleep at the door of the General's Marquee, 'which
lie did until the embarkation of the troops. This
was done to prove his fidelity to the American cause.

At the great treaty which was held at Greenville
in 1815, General Cass, one of the Commissioners
related the whole of the transaction to the assem-
bled Chiefs, and after thanking Beaver, in the name

PIONEEB LIFE.

183

of the United States, for ]a9,ving saved the life of
their general,, he caused a handsome present (put
of the goods which were sent for.thei purpose of th«
treaty) to b;e made him.

■ CHAPTER XXXI.

PHILIP AND HIS COMPANIONS ARE INTKODUCED TO BLUE

JACKET— BLUE JACKET PROPOSES TO GIVE THEM AN

EXHIBITION OP INDIAN SPORTS— -THEY RECEIVE

AN INVITATION TO PLAY A GAME OF "FOOT

BALL ' '—BILLY ACCEPTED THE INVITATION

—AN EXCITING GAME — BILLY WINS

THE PRIZE- THE DISPOSAL OP IT.

"On grassy banks, the men and maidens played,
Young warriors there, their gallantry displayed;
The voice of joy and mirth rose high in air,
As men and maidens 'on the grass lay there."

As already stated, Philip on his arrival at the vil-
lage of Wapakonetta, found that Back Hoof, and
a number of his young men had left for the residence
of Captain Pipe. The villagers endeavored to pur-
suade him to remain with them until their Chief
returned. But he declined. They, however, pre-
vailed upon him i,o remain one day and night.

The celebrated Blue Jacket, who commanded the
Shawanoes in the battle of 1784, had just returned
t'o the village the morning that Black Hoof had left
for Pipe's cavern. He, too, was growing old, but
he seemed full of life and vigor. •

Philip and his comrades were introduced to him,
and Philip made known his object in scouting the
woods.

The' next morning after their arrival here. Blue
Jacket promised to his young men to give our heroes
an exhibition of some Indian sports. A purse of
valuables was soon gathered up, and. all the villagers
were ready for the gaine.

> > PIONEER LIFE., 185

The village was situated in a beautiful location
ana the country around was truly delightful. They
were soon upon the lawn, and separated into two
;6arties, one consisting of the women, and the men.
Our heroes were requested to participate in the
sport, but they politely declined, with the exception
of Billy, who was anxious to engage in the game,
which was to be game of "foot hall."

The Indians boys were much rejoiced in having
Billy for their companion in the gtime, and Billy was
deter,mined on distinguishing -himself as a master
hand at the sport.

At this game the mpn were to play against' the
women, and the rules by which they were to be gov-
erned were as follows : The men were not to touch
the ball with their hands, on penalty of loosing the
game ; but the women were allowed to pick it up, run
with it, 3,nd throw it as far as they could ; but in so
doing the men were permitted to catch the women,
shake them, and even throw them down, in order to
extricate the ball from them ; but not to touch it only
with their feet.

At the opposite extremity of the play ground,
stakes were driven in the earth, and when the ball
was rejected beyond either of these stakes the game
• was closed. When all were ready the Chief took his
position between the two parties, and throwing the
ball into the air, retired and the contest commenced.
Billy plunged into the midst with the, agility of a
cat; although somewhat "ehunky," he was remark-
ably nimble.

The Indians were evidently much pleased with his
dexterity, and sought every opportunity to express
their approbation of his heroism. The coptest waged
warmly, and men and women were seen tumbling in
groups upon the lawn. It was amusing to our heroes
to observe the rough and, ready tumbling of tlie con-
tending parties. The contest lasted for more than
an hour, which showed that the parties were well

186 PIONEER LIFE.

matchedi At one period of the game, the ball was
caught by a young Indian squaw ; Billy was close be-
hind her side ; she attempted to run, he fallowed and
immediately she was in his arms. A scuffle ensued,
which lasted for a few moments. T'he yOung squaw
was his equal in strength, and Billy found his rfiatch.
At length she succeeded, in prostrating her antag-
onist. -The women sent up a shout of triumph. Quick
as lightning Billy was again upon his feet,, and, being
chagrined a|; hearing his female antagonist so high-
ly applauded, and knowing tliat Philip and Alfred
would never cease tormenting him over his defeat, he
again compaencefl the struggle, summoning all his
strength, he made one desperate effort,, and the
young squaw lay sprawling upon the ground. Her fall
was somewhat hard, and on reaching the ground she
dropped the ball, whereupon BiUy ga,ve it a kick with
his foot, sending it som,e distance in advance of him-
In a moment it was in i the bands of a hferculean
squax, who on receiving it, commenced running to-
wards the stake followed by Billy and his antagonist
with several others. Billy succeeded in overtaking
her, and catching a hold of her garment, held on "
IJeing dragged some distance by her with the force
of a locomotive.

Billy, finding that she was nearing the: stake,
. caught her by the ankle, and she fell just as a party
of males and females advanced upon" them. In fall-
ing she dropped the ball, and the next instant a kick
from Billy's 'foot sent it whirling with the rapidity
of a bullet past the stake. ' ^

The victory was won, and the infant backwoods-
man, Bunty Billy, was the victor, A s^iout of exul-
tation rent the air, and old* and young crowded
around the young man. Every one was anxious to
take him by the hand. The eyes of the Indians were
rivited upon him as he stood there, the envied hero
of the ganie. The young ^quaw with whom he had
the severest struggle, had slyly crept by his side, ancj

PIONEER LIFE. ' 187

extending , her handsome Indian countenance, thus
addressed him :

''You brave boy — make good warrior — great
Chief — fine man for good squaw — ^inuch happy have
you stay here.'/

' ' Thood like to do thp, Mitheth Inthun, ' ' said Billy,
"but pon my thoul, I can't thith time. I muth help
my friend, Mr. Themour, to hunt hith thquaw."

As soon as the game had closed, thie Chief who
had held the prize, commanded the parties to be
seated, after which he presehted the prize to Billy,
who upon receiving it, bowed as gra(?efully as he
knew how, at the same time thanking the Chief for
the valuables. . <

"Ith thith mine?" said Billy. ,s,.. ,
"Yes, sir," said the Chief , emphatically.

"Well, then," said BiUy, " can dithppthe of it
ath ;i ^leathe." ' ;!'

The Chief answered in the affirmative. Where-
upon Billy apportioned the prize to the "Ladieth/^
giving the young squaw the entire Jialf, and an equal
share to the rest. The disposition was highly ap-
plauded, by the men, who o;a beholding Billy's gen-
erosity sent up another shout of acclamation.

CHAPTEE XXXII.

PHILIP AND HIS COMPANIONS ARRIVE AT THE CAVE OP
CAPTAIN PIPE— NO NEWS OF LILLY— PHILIP DIS-
APPOINTED—ALFRED ENCOURAGES HIM— PHILIP
RELATES THE ADVENTURE WITH THE INDI-
ANS IN THE NARROWS— PHILIP'S DREAM
—BEAVER INTRODUCED TO PHILIP.

"With heartfelt grief, the Chieftain
> Sat within his cave. No tidings came

Of her, for whom he *ept and sighed."

The morning after the game of football, mentioned
in our last chapter, our trio of young backwoodsmen
left the village and continued their journey towards
the cave of Captain Pipe, where they arrived in
safety in a few days.

The old Chief was the sole occupant of the cav-
ern, when our heroes entered, and was reclining
upon some skins of wild animals, absorbed in deep
meditation. ,

"Good evening, Captain Pipe," exclaimed each of
the two young men, who advancing towards him in
turn, renewed their friendship by a hearty shake of
the hand.

"And who is that you bring along with youl^'
asked the Captain.

"This sir," said Philip, "is an orphan boy named
Williaija Buntley, but whom we call "Bunty Billy."
His residence was on the Black Fork, where he lived
with Martin Euffner, with whom he was bound. But
after the murder of his master, he was taken pris-
oner by the murderers. But he has effected his
escape, the particulars of which»he wi]l relate to you
himself."

PIONEBK LIFE. 189

"Ah, indeed," replied the Captain, "and- is this.
'Bunty Billy," of whom you spoke to me oil a pre-
vious occasion?"

"Yes, sir," said Philip, "and a more manly heart
never beat in a man's bosom than his. He bears,
himself so much above his years. Fear or coward-
ice form no part of his composition. But we will
talk over this matter again. Any news concerning
Lilly?"

"None, none," replied the old man pensively^
"nor need I, I presume, ask you for any?"

Philip sighed heavily, repeating the Chieftain's
answer: "None, none.". Then pausing, while tears
started in his eyes, a deep and solemn silence, for a
few moments reigned in that subterranean recess.

"None, none," repeated the young man, after a
few moments' pause. Then turning to Alfred, who
sat sympathizing with the afflicted Chieftain and his
sorrowful stricken companion, he said:

"Alfred^ I am, indeed, melancholy. As I gaze
upon the gloomy walls of this cavern, thoughts of
other days rise fresh in my memory. What a check-
ered scene is human life — how full of sorrows and
disappointments. In one moment our hearts are
buoyant with hope and animation, in the next a dark
pall of disappointment is thrown over our dearest
joys and brightest anticipations ; and we linger in
deepest melancholy until death closes our miserable
existence. There are few, indeed, who have reached
the age of manhood, or even launched their bark on
youth's sunny sea of life who, in retrospecting the
past, cannot dwell upon some scene of melancholy
or pleasure. Life is, indeed, ~ replete with circum-
stances, from which spring self-gratification, unre-
lenting compunction or the strongest and most mel-
ancholy sympathies. This fact I have realized, for
I have drank from affliction's bitter cup. Skies that
were bright and cloudless are now dark and cheer-
less. Hopes that were once strong and promising

190 PIONEER LIFE.

are no\W weak and forbiding. My whole being is
shrouded in gloom, and I feel as though death only-
can befriend me."

"Philip," interrupted his companion, "life is in-
deed a checkered, scene ; and we are the children of
circumstance; but it has two sides, the bright and
sunny, and the dark and dreary. Now I hold that
.the darkness which clouds our pathway, in most
cases is merely imaginary ; and permitting our mind
to indulge in unpleasant reflections, we increase our
gloom and despondency. There is one attribute of
the human mind, which, when properly exercised,
will dispel the darkest cloud that ever hung across
life's pathway. This attribute is Hope. There is,
perhaps, no one now living, who cannqt hope; The
productions of the sculptor's chisel and painter '.s
penjcil may moulder in the dust; the wreath which
decks the brow of the enchanted bard, or comniand-
ing monarch, may wither; the throne of the con-
queror may be demolished and scattered to the
earth, and his power and grandeur no longer be
hymned by his attendant minstrels; but the fond
aspirations of th*e human heart, poUring through
the channel of hope, can never die. We may be dis-
appointed in our expectations in life, but hope looks
into the future, and opens up, on the other side of
death, skies which ate eternally cloudless. This
characteristic of the human heart is our solace
through life, and our comfort in death — it is in-
scribed in our hearts, and written on the pillars of
heaven, and reflected down to earth."

Philip sat, gazing in the face of his companion, as
he breathed forth those soul inspiring words, and
he imagined in him, the inspiration of a Byron—
the eloquence of a Mirabeau, and the intellect of a
Bacon. Alfred's burning eloquence had fired up the
soul of his melancholy companion, and he replied :

"Alfred, your words are, encouraging, and I can,
and will hope — though it be against hope."

PIONEEIf LIFE. 191

' "Thee here, gentlemen," said Billy, "there itb
thome thooting to be done ath well ath hoping in
thith cathe. Hoping ith not going to bring Lillj
here, and I'm for tharting ath thodn ath pothible
on another thcout after her."

"There's some backbone in this fellow, Captain,"
■said Alfred.

"Yes," replied the Chieftain, "it would not re-
quire much time for an Indian to discover that in
his countenance and fiery eyes. I see he has im-
bibed the spirit of his niaster, the heroic Euffner."

"Poor Euffner," said Philip, as the recollection
of hi? horrible murder rose fresh in his memory,
*'but Billy has the "proud satisfaction of knowing
that one of the murderers of his master met his fate
from his hands." /'

Whereupon Philip related the adventure with the
Indians in the Narrows to the Captain, giving the
old Chief a description of his person.

A descriptibn of the person of the one who fell
by a ball from Philip's rifle, satisfied the Captain
that he was one of the Grreentown Indians whoin he
had often seen, but on account of his lowness of
character, (being giving to intoxication and its
beastly practices,) "had formed no intimate acquaint-
ance with him.

Captain Pipe was much pleased to know that an-
other of thesd execrable wretches had met his just
reward.

"Yeth, and by the teeth of the mouth of the
great Mithithippi, . the thame devil that thole your
daughter thall join the mur4ererth of my mathter,
on the other side of Jordan. Mind that if you
pleathe. "

"Why, Billy," said Philip, "you seem to talk with
a great deal of confidence. You must certainly be
under the influence of inspiration in this prediction.
Well, to confess the truth; I phould be quite happy
to see the fulfillment of your prophecy." -

192 PIONEER LIFE.

"Well, thir," said Billy, "I will tell you why I
am thertain of thith. Once when Johnny Apple-
seed came to our cabin on the Black Fork, he put
hith handth upon my head and prayed for the
thpirit to reth upon me, that I might prothper in
all my undertakingth ; and thinth that time I have
met with good thucceth, and I am thure I shall in
thith inthance."

' ' May the Great Spirit grant it, ' ' said the old mWn
solemnly.

It was drawing near the hour of midnight, as our
little party lay down to rest. During the night
Philip was aroused from hie slumber by the pierc-
ing shriek of a female voice at the entrance of the
Cavern. He sprang to his feet, seized his rifle and
bounded to the outside, and found that grey morn-
ing was dawning in the east, but could not discover
from whence the sound proceeded. Returning in-
side, he found the Captain astir, to whom he com-
municated the cause of his leaving the cave.

"Ah!" said/the Captain, "that sound is familiar
in the cavern, ever since the murder of OnisMshsha,
my beautiful daughter. "

"Merciful Heavens!" cried Philip in a paroxysm
of frenzy, ' ' and is it possible that Lilly is numbered
among the dead? Tell me, Captain — tell me, I be-
sepch you, in the name of my murdered jewel the
names of her assassins, -and I will follow them to
the ends of the earth, to avenge her death. Oh,
God," continued he, "I am now a lonely heart-
broken stranger, without friends and home, or any
kiUdred spirit to love and be loved. Lilly is gone!
Oh! it is hard to leave this bright and beautiful
world, and embark upon the dark and uncertain
ocean of eternity, so shoreless and dreary — but I
must go — I will follow her to the land of spirits "

"What the mischief are you preaching about?"
interrogated Billy, who was awakened by the stam-
mering voice of the dteiaming Philip. "I thay, Mr.

PIONEER LIFE, ' 193

Themour," continued he, at the same time giving
his friend a shake, "what the deuthe hath got into
your dreaming thell."

"Humph!" cried Philip, rubbing his eyes, "I've
had another infernal dream, that's all."

"Well, then," said Billy, "you needn't make tho
much futh about it, tho ath to dithturb othej- fokth
from thleeping — thod blaths yer."

' ' Well, Billy, ' ' said Philip, ' ' I must beg your par-
don for thus disturbing you this time, and promise
amends in the future. ' '

"Nufi thaid," replied Billy, "and I hope' yer
dreamth will not be turned to a Divine reality, ath
Johnny Appletheed uthed to thay. Ith^my opinion,
thir, that the day ith near at hand, when your hopth
will be loth in thight." , ^ /

During this conversation, Alfred, who was lying
some distance in the rear of Billy, was aroused
from his slumber also, to whom the x;ause of the
conversation was made known. Philip arose and
stepped to the entrance of the cave, a"nd on looking
out discovered that it was really morning. On re-
turning he found the Captain astir also. He had
lodged by himself in another apartment of the cav-
ern. Philip related his dream to him, which seemed
to affect his mind to some considerable extent.

After partaking of some refreshments, Philip and
the did Chief left the cavern and proceeded some
distance into the forest, and halting at the same
tree where he and Black Hoof had deposited the
box, he asked Philip if he could recognize this place,
and this tree in after years. Philip replied in the
affirmative.

"Well, then." said the old Chief, "keep this spot
well fixed in your memory. Mark eve'ry feature of
this locality; as perhaps this place may afford you
Sonne material advantage hereafter."

Philip stood for some moments gazing upon the
surrounding woods, wondering in his mind what -this

194 PIONEER LIFE.

singtilar adventure meant. His curiosity was ex-
cited, and he asked its meaning.

"Sir," said the Captain, "the explanations can-
not now be given. You shall know all hereafter,
should your life and that of my daughter's be
spared. There are none others now living, except
a particular friend of mine, (who is a noted Chief )^
who knows the object I have in view in thus bring-'
ing you on this spot."

After thus marking this location in his memory,
Philip and the chieftain returned to the cave, where
he and his companions remained for several days,
waiting the arrival of young Beaver, spoken of in
the foregoin'g chapter. Beaver made his appear-
ance in a few days, was introduced to Philip and his
companions, and then proceeded to give the Captain
a history of his adventure.

CHAPTER XX^III.

VISIT OF BEAYEE TO THE WABASH— BATTLE, WITH IN-
DIANS—NEWS OF LILLY— PHILIP VISITS 6BN. HAERI-
SON— ANOTHER ADVENTUEE— PHILIP AND HIS
PAETY TAKEN PEI80NEES— LILLY FOUND.

Sharp was the eonfliet,— but in vain
■They strove against superior men.

During the period which had elapsed between the
first and second visits to the cavern, Beaver had en-
listed under his commnad a small body of choice
young warriors ; and proceeded with all possible
haste to the Wabash; and about the middle of De-
cember reached the head waters, just in time to join
Col. CampbelPs detachment,, sent out against the
Miami Indians. On reaching one of their village's,
they commenced ah attack upon them, killing some
eight or ten warriors, and taking quite a number of
prisoners — ^men, women and children ; , they then set
fire to the village and encamped a few rniles there-
from.

A little before the dawn of day, tljey were at-
tacked by the exasperated savages, with the most
daring bravery and horrible yells. The battle waged
warmly for some minutes, but the savages were dis-
persed, with the loss of about eight or ten of the
Americans, and some thirty or forty Indians. The
prisoners were secured and ca,rried to headquarters.

In conversation with one of them, he informed
Beaver, that he was originally from Greien town,
and that after the burning of their yillage, he in
company with some othe^rs, determined to join the
British fotces and fight against the Americans.

196 PIONEER LIFE.

Beaver then made inquiry of, him concerning PipGL
He said he kijew him well, and had been at his cabin
several times. He further stated that' the Captain
'*was a traitor, to his tribe, and to his race — that
his treason was punished by the loss of his daugh-
ter, whom he loved with the most passionate fond-
ness.

This was the information which Beaver wanted,^
and he pressed the question as to where she had
been taken. The prisoner informed him that she
was in the hands of some distinguished white Chief,
at Maiden. Beaver pressed the question as tq the
person or persons who had stolen the miaden, but he
professed ignorance as to who the criminals were.

Having received his information, young Beaver
and his rangers set out for the residencfe of Captain
Pipe, where he arrived a very few days after the
return of Seymour and his companions, as nbticed
in our last chapter. ■ '

As soon as BeaVer communicated this intelKgence
to the Captain, he returned to his warriors, whom
be had left at Harrison's headquarters. Beaver
sought an interview with Harrison, and informed
him of his intention to form an independent rifle
company and take charge of them himself. The
American General sanctioned the movement, and
promised him the first choice of his soldiers ; but
Beaver declined the offer of his generous friend, al-
lejging that he had concluded to form his company
entiresly of his own race. In the course of a fort-
night Beaver's Indian rangers were ready and
equipped. His company consisted of about fifty
young men, tall, graceful and courageous. In the
meantime Philip had also succeeded in raising a
supply of provisions and ammnuition for the winter,,
which he placed under the protection of Captain
Pipe, in the cavern, as he had determined to make
that his headquarters.

The news which Philip had heard concerning Lil-

PIONEEE LIFE. 197

iy's destination had animated him, and for the first
time since he had heard of her abduction, he felt
an omen of success. His entire being was renewed^
and his heart beat with new emotion. Hope of suc-
cess was now the ruling passion of his mind, for he
knew that strong arms and bold hearts were enlisted
in his cause. In the young and heroic Beaver and
his daring warriors, he reposed T;inlimited confidence,
and with his own brave and dauntless companions,
Alfred and Billy, he felt almost confident that the
rescue of Lilly was certain. Yet there were other
considerations which at times preyed heavily upon
his mind. Her integrity and purity were beyond all
doubt; but then she was in the hands of rude sa^^-
ages; or unprincipled white men. But then, again,
he knew that the prayers- of Johnny Appleseed,
whom he esteemed a man of God, had been offered
up to heaven in her behalf; and he who hears the
young raven's cry,' and tempereth the winds to the
shorn lamb, would watch over the young maiden,
though in a land of cruel enemies.

'Twas now mid-winter — storms and tempests —
snow and cold — held their chilly throne in the wil-
derness — for some days past the weather had been
very severe and forbidding.

One morning about the middle of January, 1813,
Philip called around him his companions in ^be
cavern, and thus addressed them:

' ' Forest companions, ' I am anxious for another
adventure in the woods. I am fvllj aware that, at
this season of the' year, such an adventure is at-
tended with many difficulties, privations, and dan-
gers, but my restless disposition prompts me to seek
excitement. It would afford me much pleasure to
have your colnpany in this expedition, but I will
not insist upon your accompanying me, contrary to
your inclinations. Wliat say you to the project?"

"Do you ath my opinion," said Billy, before Al-
fred could reply. ,

198' , PIQNEEK LIFE.

" Of course, Billy, " said Philip. . ' ,

"Well,' then," said Billy, "you thall have it in
thoift. If you don't thopn thart aftej- thith gall,
I'll thart mythelf."

"But, Billy," said Philip, "you must remember
that this is rather a cool undertaking, and probably
you might rue the operation. Camping out in the
woods such nights as these is somewhat trying to
the nervous system." ..

"I (;a:nnot thactly understand yer nervouth.thyth-
tern," said Billy, "but ath to the rueing operation,
thath a game Billy Buntly never played."
y. "Philip," said Alfred, "Billy has expressed vnj
sentiments. We are ready to follow you,"

The ne^t morning after the conversation, just as
the sun was peering above the horizon, and shed-
^ding his golden, glories aslant through the surrounds
ing forest, our heroes once, more plunged into the
wild woods, directing their course towards Harri-
son's Headquarters. The morning was cool', though
otherwise delightful. The sky was clear and cloud-
less, but the ground was covered with snow ; and as
they proceeded through the woods,' the traces of
various wild animals presented themselves ; and in
, many instances flocks of wild turkeys and herds of
deer passed before, them. But ivild game wa,s not
the objec,t of their expedition.

In a few days the party arrived at the camp of
Greneral Harrison, where they volunteered their ser-
vices till spring, as independent scouts.

Shortly after their arrival, the sad intelligence of
Winchester's defeat reached General Harrison.
The news was received with deep -melancholy. Win-
chester had proceeded with a reinforcemnt of eight
hundred men to the village of Frenchtown. On the
22nd they were attacked by a combined force. of th&
enemy under the command of Tecumseh and Proc-
tor. In the- action the American lost about four
hundred men in killed and wounded and missing.

PIONEER LIFE. 199

This horrible massacre of whites enflamed the al-
ready exasperated Amercans, and they determined to
cut short their work, by making a bold and desperate
fight.

After the first of February, Harrison established
his advanced post at the foot of the rapids, and
there erected Fort Meigs. He then ordered all
troops in the rear to join him immemdiately, hoping
about the middle of the month to make' an attack
upon Maiden, the Headquarters of Proctor and Te-
cumseh, and with one bold stroke retrieve the mis-
fortunes of the Alnerican arms in this quarter.

One morning Philip and his two companions had
wandered down the banks of the river, near the Bay
shore, where they suddenly came upon the camp of
a large body of Indians. On discovering them they
immediately retreated without observation, as they
supposed, and about daybreiak arrived at the camp
with the intelligence. Harrison immediately ordered
out six hundred men, and proceeded down the river
on the ice, some twenty miles, when they discovered
some fire on the north side of the river; but the
Indians had left. After pursuing them some dis-
tance they were met by the spies, who informed them
that the Indians were pursuing their way to Maiden
with all possible haste, whereupon the army re-
turned to their post.

A few days after this, a party of some two hun
dred and fifty men were seen going upon an errand
of the most desperate nature. The object of this ,.ad
venture was to enter Maiden, under cover of mid-
night darkness, and destroy with combustibles the
British Fleet, and the public stores on the bank of
the river. The party had proceeded as far as Mid-
dle Bass Island, but found they could proceed no
further, in consequence, of the breaking up of the
ice. They, therefore, abandoned the enterprise, and
returned to Fort Meigs.

During their retrep,t, three young men deserted

200 PIONEER tIFE.

them, retraced their steps towards Maiden, and
while encamped in the woods a few miles from this
post, they were surprised by a party of Indians and
taken as prisoners to Maiden. It is needless to say
that these prisoners wer6 none others than Philip
Seymour, Alfred Bradley and Bunty Billy.*

Fort Maiden, the place to which our heroes were
taken, was situated on the east bank of Detroit
Eiver, on the Canada side, and was originally under
the command of General Brock, to whom Gen. Hull
surrendered his army. Shortly afterwards Brock
was killed at the siege of Queenstown, after which
the command fell into the hands of Col. Proctor,
who at this time held possession of Fort Maiden.

On their arrival here, our young heroes found
themselves in the midst of Indians and their no Jess
savage foes, the British. They were ipmaediately
placed under guard with quite a number of other
prisoners.

We must not forget to mention that the intentions
of the party to which our heroes joined themselves,
were anticipated by two supposed Frenchmen, who
left Sandusky (the day before the company had
started on this perilous expedition) and crossed the
ice to Maiden, and gave Proctor the alarm. The
British General immediately sent ojit his Indian
scouts, to watch their movements, and coming upon
our heroes, as they lay in camp under the mouth
of Huron Eiver, took them prisoners.

The next morning after their capture Col. Proctor
paid them a visit in person, and interrogated them
as to their business in this region. Philip told them
they were hunters, and their business was that of
hunting — that they were from the Black Fork in
Ohio, and that they h&,d missed their way, being
in an uninhabited wilderness. Proctor had them
searched in hope of finding some papers about them

* Mr. Jolin Andrews of Monroe Township, informed the author
that he saw these three heroes a;t Tt. Meigs, sevei'al times.

PIONEEK LIFE. 201

which might prove them to be spies. But in this he
failed, and he gave orders to keep them under guard
until hfe ordered otherwise. He then left for the pur-
pose of holding a conference with TecUmseh. The
next morning Proctor, accompanied by Tecumseh,
paid theni another visit.

On his jBrst appearance Philip and Alfred were
deeply impressed with the person of Tecumseh^—
it was the first time they had seen him. There was
something about his whole person which was truly
commanding. Philip gazed upon this noble looking
Chief with feelings bordering upon awe; and no
wonder, for Tecumseh was the most extraordinary
Chief that ever appeared in history. He was by
birth a Shawanoes, and under other circumstances
would have been an honor to the world. He was
endowed by nature with the attributes of mind
necessary for great political combinations. It was
he who formed the grand scheme of uniting all the
tribes east of the Mississippi into hostility against
the United States., This enterprise he commenced
as early as 1809, and up till the war, he had insinu-
ated himself by his adroitness, eloquence and cour-
age, into every tribe from Michilimackir^nck to Geor-
gia. By his eloquence and cunningness, he played
upon the feelings and superstitions of his race;
and carried with him a red stick, which he repre-
sented as possessing magical properties, the ac-
ceptance (Of which was considered as joining his par-
ty. From this circumstance the name "Red Stocks"
was applied to all Indians hostile to the United
States.

Tecumseh; on approaching our heroes, cast upon
them a deep and searching glance. His fiery eye
sent a thrill of horror into the hearts of all but
Billy, who sat unmoved' by, this powerful chief.

Col. Proctor made strict interrogations of Philip
concerning the forces and intentions of Greneral Har-
rison. Philip told him that as to his intentions he

202 PIONEEE LIFE.

knew nothing; as he supposed that none bu^ his
staff officers knew them ; but as to his forces they
were daily increasing — as he passed near the inouth
of the Maumee river a few days ago, he accidently!
came upon his forces, at a vacated camp fire, on tl^e
north bank of the river, where he (Harrison) was
joined by a large body 6f, troops — that after being
examined, by Harrison's officers he was permitted
to proceed on his hunting expedition.

This statement Proctor knew was true, and he
gave orders to, treat the prisoners kindly. ' He of-
fered them the hospitalities of his fort, but com-
^manded that a vigilant watch be kept upon them.
The party was then conducted to the quarters of
Tecumseh. Here Philip- and his, companions held a
council, in which it was agreed that they would re-
main on the peninsula till the breaking up of winter,
and then effect their escape.

Philip sought every opportunity to enquire after
Lilly, without giving any cause of suspicioh. His
anxious eyes closely scrutii^ized every group of
women, which caused many enquiring glances tb
be cast upon him by those dark eyed forest daugh-
ters

, Time rolled on ; and nothing was heard' of the
young maiden. It is not necessary to tax the read-
er's patience with a recital of the feelings and anxi-
eties of Philip, during that gloomy winter,, at Fort
Maiden. Th,e reader's imagination must supply the
place "of description.

One pleasant evening towards the middle of ApriL
Philip and his companions were seated upon the
ba-nks of the river in sight of the Fort. The severi--
ty of the weather had moderated, and balmy spring
was hastening on.

"Alfred," said Philip, "I'm afraid these Indians
and British will yet overpower the Americans. Proc-
tor and Tequmseh are now making the most exten-

PIOKEEB LIFE. , 203-

give preparations for thie siege of Mt. Meigs, and
they seem sanguine o1^ success."

"I have no' fears of that," replied Alfred, "Gen.
Harrison is not going to let them drive him from
his post — mark that. "

"Not if I were there," replied Billy, half in jest
and the other half in earnest, "I'll bet my life
againth thuppenth hapenny that I can make every
red devil of , them run."

"No doubt of it, Billy — none in the lea^t," said
Philip, "but you would have to run first."

' ' Thod blatht yor, ' ' said Billy, ' ' I '1} ' '

"Hold, hold, Billy," said Philip in a whisper, "see
there are some Indian women coming towards us. ' ^

"You Tecumseh's prisoners?" asked one of them.
"Yes, madam," replied Philip, bowing gracefully to-
the young squaw.

"Here's a letter for you," said she, at the same
instant putting a slip of paper into his hands, and
then passed on.,

"What can this mean," said Philip to himself;
and hastily tearing open the letter, read as follows:

"Sir — This will inform you that a friend wishes
to speak to you this evening. Please come to the
upper Block House ; on being demanded to give the-
countersign, answer " King Greorge 's Friend." On
entering you will find an escort, who will conduct
you to my chamber. Exhibit no signs of fear or
excitement, and you can j)ass the guards in safety.
Be inside the gate at nine o'clock. Come by your-
self. . ■ L. P."

"L. P.," cried Philip; " 'tis from Lilly! Oh, mer-
ciful heavens, 'tis from Lilly ! my adored and long
lost Lilly — I shall see her again — ^yes, I will break
through the powers of men and devils to gaze once
more upon that angel face.-^Oh, bless Grod, fpr these
few lines — they have raised my drooping spirits —
quelled all my fears and poured a flood of consola-
tion into my bosom, which I have never before real-

204 PIONEER LIFE, ,

ized. Oh, thank God, my cup runs over — ^my joys
are full and I am happy once, more — ^yes, happy be-
yond expression."
. Then pausing, Philip .gazed for a moment into the
face of his companions, while a profusion of tears
rolled down his cheeks.

The scene was deeply affecting, and Billy and
Alfred mingled their tears with his.

At the appointed hour Philip was inside the gate,
when twb Indians 'ushered him into the pretence of
Ms beautiful Black Fork Lilly!

CHAPTER XXXIV.

INTEEVIEW WITH LILLY PIPE— PLANS FOE ESCAPE,

'Twas such a night as might have flung,
Its robe o'er primal nature's bower;
On that blest night, the hunter found
His long lost love, the forest flower.

The joy and happiness produced in the minds of
Philip and Lilly, at their meeting in the garrison at
Maiden, we shall not attempt to describe. Language
is too meagre to express the emotions, which natur-
ally arise in the minds of kindred spirits, on meet-
ing, under such circimistances.

As Philip entered the apartment, the beautiful
Lilly met his astonished gaze.'

- There she sat alone — beautiful as when he had
first seen her under Hemlock Falls, in Richland coun-
ty.

"Dearest Lilly," exclaimed the astonished and
somewhat bewildered Philip, as he opened the door
of her humble apartment — "dearest Lilly" repeated
he, and springing to her, clasped her in his arms,
while tears of joy ran down his manly cheeks.

The happiness which the yoUng hunter this mo-
ment experienced we shall leave the reader to imag-
ine. For a moment neither of the lovers "could
speak : but that silence was big with feeling— a feel-
ing, too, which was inexpressibly deep. Months of
painful anxiety had tortured their minds, they both
had drank deeply fromaflBiiction's bitter cup; but
fpr all their past woes, the present interview was
an ample atonement, and forgetting the past, they
rejoiced over the present. As soon as the young

206 PIONEER LIFE.

man could Command his feelings he thus addressed
his "fair one."

"Deaj-est Lilly, I am indeed happy — too happy;
I have not deserved of Heaven so great a joy as
thi''s. The highest hope, which fever pictured the
future earth to me, never told me of bliss like this.
Lilly, did'st thou ever pray for me? I have for thee
and I have felt that my prayers, which I have trem-
Mingly whispered in the ear of Heaven, would be
wafted to thy ears by some bright angelic minister,
the guardian spirit of thy footsteps on earth. Often
times, dark, gloomy shadows came across my mind;
but then I was consoled to know that the eye which
never sleeps would watch and protect thy pure and
innocent spirit, though lost to human sight in (I'e
untra versed worlds throughout the depths of un-
measurable space. Nay, more, I have felt that
should I not have found that here on earth, my own
soul would have caught ,a spark of Grod's own es-
sence, whose whole being is love, which would have
lighted me on, following thy flight thtough the cy-
cles of eternity; this would have lit up the dark
wilderness of worlds and illuminated the voids of
space,

"Where gravitation seems to turn the other way."

"Yea, dearest Lily, this would have lent bright-
ness to the eyes of my soul, so that I would have
recognized thy angel face in a land of darkest shad
ows, though around thy form hovered the inhabit-
ants of congregated worlds, multitudinous as the
countless millions of motes, which float in the beam^s
of a universe of suns."

Lilly sat gazing into the eyes of Philip as he
poured forth his soul in such holy rapture. There
was a depth of unmeasured holy feeling in his ex-
pression. Her pure and virtuous heart breathed
the same devoted feeling, and she replied:

"Philip Seymour — your kindness to one so un-
worthy I would desire to apprieciate, and next to

PIONEIiK LIFE. 207

your name I would pronounce that of my father — ■
what tidings 5f himT'

"All is well — Captain Pipe is well. Give your-
self no uneasiness concerning him," said Philip.

"Then my happiness is complete," replied the
lovely Indian maiden. "I shall see hirh again and
drink once more from the fountains of his affection.
Devoted father — he will lay his hands upon my
head, and once more beseech the blessing of the In-
dian's Great Spirit to rest upon me."

"And here permit me to say that, to you I owe
a debt of gratitude, which I would delight to can-
cel were it in my power. ' '

".Thou owest me nothing," exclaimed the young
hunter. All I have done for thee, was prompted by
other than selfish motives. Lilly, I must confess
it — -I love thee, dost thou love me V

"Philip," exclaimed the young maiden, gazing
modestly into his face, "you are my deliverer, and
waiting your pleasure you shall be my future pro-
tector. ' '

"Thank you, thank you, dearest Lilly — I thank
you for such words of consolation; and here, in the
presence of Him who reads the intentions and af-
fections of all hearts, I solemnly dedicate my life
to the promotion of yoiir happiness. The avowal is
now made, and recorded in heaven; and thou art
mine, and we shall only await an opportunity to join
our hands in the presence of human eyes."

"Your pleasure, is mine and your happiness is
mine," replied the young woman; "I am in your
hands, and to you I will look for protection. Though
I do feel that I aip not Vorthy of a mind so noble,
and a heart so magnanindous and generous." ,

' ' Speak not thus, nay fair one, ' ' replied the young
man; "such language wounds my feelings."

"Then I would crave your pardon," said the
maiden.

"Nay, nay," replied Philip, "thou hast no pardon

208 PIONEER LIFE.

to crave from anything that's mortal."

'^'But I am an orphan," replied the maiden; "I
am alone in this cold and friendless world. I know
not my origin — all is dark and mysterious to me. I
have been raised among savages, and have never
had the advantages of civilized life."

"It matters not to me what may be your origin.
This is of no importance to me; but one thing I
am confident of, you are of no mean extraction.
There is a fountain of purity and loveliness in those
two orbs of thine, which cannot be traced to an
origin of impurity ; to look upon them is to behold
more captivating loveliness than is beheld in the
unfolding glories, of the tinted flower which opens
its bosom to the gaze of the -golden sun, when his
beams illuminate at morn the mountain coronet.

"Nay, nay, speak not to me of your doubtful
origin. To me it brings no unpleasant feelings. I
love thee. All the deep joys which I have felt in
my short life's search for wisdom, hath never
brought to me the bliss which I this moment realize.
To know that thy young heart leans upon mine, re-
pays me. for all the toils and diangers through which
I have passed in search of thee.

' * Often and often since the ihurder of my friends,
I have strayed by myself, and in melancholy loneli-
ness, called to memory the scenes of the past. I,
too, have looked upon myself as a lone orphan,
whose only home was the forest wild — no father,
mother, sister or brother to cheer my pensive soul
in its moments of despondency. Back of me all lies
silent in the voiceless tomb, which has closed over
the last of my earthly relations. Yes, I have stood
silent and solitary beneath the sad gigantic oak,
whose branches shade the tombs of friends, and
looked upon and viewed myself as a solitary pine,
upon the rugged mountain's brow, exposed 'to the
desolating energies of merciless storms and temp-
ests. But in these moments of sadness and gloom,

^ PIONEER LIFE. 209

thy loved image would rise up before me like a being
from the spil-it land; and as the silver moon illumi-
nates the dome of heaven, so would the thoughts of
thee fill my soul with light, promising bright days
a'nd gleams of sunshine in the span of life allotted
to me. Night after night, as the angels lighted up
their starry lights in the dark dome of heaven, I
have wandered forth alone, but thy pure spirit was
soon by my side, making me happier and holier, with
the knowledge that there was one in whose heart I
could pour the tale of my, woes, and in whose ears I
could whisper the .tale of love,, and who in return
could love me with a "woman's love."

"But," continued he, "there is no time to delay.
Let's fly from this gloomy dungeon before the dawn
of day."

"I am informed that there are two other young
prisoners with ^you in this garrison. ' '

"Yes," replied Philip, "two as brave hearts as
ever s6nt the red current of life through their
arteries. ' '

"May I ask their names," inquired Lilly.

"One is Alfred 'Bradley, with whom I became ac-
quainted on the banks of the Huron river," replied
he, ' ' since which time he has been my constant com-
panion; the other is Bunty Billy, Euffner's bound
boy, who after the murder of his master, was taken
prisoner, but escaping from the Indians, was mak-
ing his way 'to a place of protection, when he came
suddenly upon Alfred and myself on the banks of
the Auglaize."

"Well," said the young maiden, "I am -ready to
accompany you. But it is necessary that you retire
from my chamber by yourself. Pass out of the gate
through which you entered, and from thence to the
bank of the river, where you will find several boa-ts.
Await my arrival there. Betray no symptoms of
alarm, and give yourself no uneasiness respecting
my safety. I will manage all things right."

CHAPTER XXXV.

ESCAPE FEOM MALDEN— BATTLE WITH INDIANS.

In the course of an hour, Philip and his compan-
ions were seated on the banks pf the river. The
night was dark, and the heavens were pouring down
their watery treasures. Here they remained nearly
an Vour before Lilly made her appearance. At last
their eyes fell upon the outline of a human form,
moving towards them through the darkness of the
night. That form was Lilly's. She had passed the
guards in safety, attired in male costume. Noise-
lessly the little party entered one qf the boats, and
under the darkness of the night, with much difficulty
and no little danger, they moored their vessel on the
opposite side of the river. Stepping on shore, they
commenced their journey through what is now called
Monroe Co., Michigan, bordering>on the Lake shore.
The weather being wet and considerable rain hav-
ing fallen, their march was anything but agreeable.'
Besides they were in the heart of an enemy's coun-
try, and exposed to the incursions of their savage
foes. Towards morning they encamped in a dense
thicket, almost surrounded by a swamp. This re-
treat was indeed a secluded one. The weather was
damp alnd somewhat cool, but the young maiden was
warmly clad, and thus remained comfortable, though
under no other roo:^ than the overhanging and inter-
laced branches of the thicket. In this position they
remained till the darkness of night again set in.
The heavens as yet were overcast with d,ark and
murky rain clouds, and it was difficult to make much
progress under such darkness over swamps and
through thickets. It was indeed a perilous under-

PIONBEE LIFE. 211

taking, and no inducements, save /that of the maid-
en's rescue could h^ve prompted our heroes to such
an adventure. . - '

Towards the morning of the third day after the
party had left Ft. Maiden, they came in sight of the
mouth of the Maumee river ; but here their progress
was stopped in consequence of finding no means of
crossing the river. Leaving Alfred and Billy to
guard the maiden, Philip proceeded cautiously up
the river, for some distance, in search of a canoe.
Coming to a small bend of the streand, he discovered
to his great joy, a single boat tied to the bank of the
xiver. In a moment he was in the boat, and then re-
tr9,ced his steps down the stream, keeping along its
hank until he arrived opposite the place where the
balance of his party lay. Being assured that no.
Indians were in hearing, he made his boat fast, and
repaired to his companions whom he found anxiously
waiting his approach. The party then proceeded to
the boat, and soon afterwards were landed on the
left bank of the river in safety; thence proceeding
along the Lake shore until the darkness of the night
closed over them, when they sought shelter in a small
ravine on the banks of a stream, emptying into the
Lake. IJere they supposed themselves secure from
the attack of savages, and they accordingly built a
fire. Their camp was in what is now called Ottawa
■county, where, as we have already remarked, the
first trial of arms, in the last war took place.

As our party were sitting around the fire engaged
in conversation, their '.attention was aroused b^ the
sound of footsteps, as they supposed, some distance
, down the, ravine. In a moment the fire was extin-
guished, and the party ready for action. *

' ' Oh, merciful God, ' ' whispered Lilly with a trem-
ulous voice, "we shall be murdered." '

"Thee here, Mitheth Lilly," whispered Billy, be-
fore Philip could answere her, "don't be.thcared,
hj /thgemany gotheijth, you than 's be hurt tho long

212 PIONEEK LIFE.

ath Billy Bunty liveth, and when he intendth to take
ith departure, he'll just let you know."

Secreting the young maiden behind a huge tree,
secure from danger, the young men arranged them-
selves in such a manner as to defend themselves to
the greatest advantage. There was, indeed, a deep
anxiety (but nothing like fear) resting in the minds
of our little band of heroes. They remained in this
position for some time, probably thirty or forty min-
utes, but could not discover any signs of human life,
save themselves. Thinking that they might have
been deceived in the noise they had heard, they were
about to quit their positions, and enter again into
conversation, when the sharp crack of a score of
rifles rang th]:ough that dark and glooniy ravine and
the next moment the death yells of half as many sav^
ages rent the air.

"In the name of Grod, Philip," whispered Alfred,
somewhat excited, "what can all this mean?"

'Twas a dark and gloomy night ; not one twinkling
star peeped through the thick darkness of that fear-
ful gloom; and strange and bewildering thoughts
rose in the minds of our benighted wanderers, as
they sat in painful anxiety in that perilous ravine.

Again and again, rang out upon the night air the
sharp cracks of the death dealing rifles, and at every
volley the mingled howls of infurated savages were
borne along the gloomy gorge, like the wails of
demons in caverns of darkness.

The battle was of short duration. One party fled,
and were pursued. In a few moments all was si-
lent — no, not silent, for as the shout of victory by
the pursufng party gradually died away in this dis-
tance, the pitiful moans of one of the combatants
who had fallen in the struggle were borne to the ears
of our heroes.

"Merciful Heavens," whispered the deeply alarm-
ed and trembling maiden, as those pitiful moans be-
came audible to her, "I hear the groans of some poor

PIONEEK LIFE. 213

dyifig wretch in the last throes of death. Poor crea-
ture ! his agony is most torturing. How much I wish
there was no such thing as war."

"Ith only a thavage devil,'' said. Billy, ,"and
thince he'th been theeking to thuck our blood like
a wild beatht, let him take wJiat the hand of juthice
givth him. Cuth him — he'th not fit to live in thuman
thoicety, tho' let him moan away."

A deep stillness had now settled down upon the
forest. ' No sounds were heard save the moans of the
dying savage.

"Philip," said Alfred, "Billy and myself will
steal cautiously upon this moaning savage, and learn
his condition."

To this proposition Philip offered no objectiojis,
as it was evident that the 'adventure was attended
with no apparent danger, since his companions had
fled and left him alone to die. ,

Accordingly Alfred and Billy cautiously made
their way to the moaning savage. They advanced
within ten steps of him without discovery. . Halting
among the tops of a fallen tree, they stood for a mo-
ment, gazing around them, in order to discover if
there were any others near him; finding none, and
believing him to be in his dying struggles they ap-
proached him, and found him setting with his back
against a trunk of the tree in the top of which they
had halted. On being asked who he was, and how
he came in this condition, he replied in brokeii Eng-
lish: ' ■

'"'Me no friend of white man— me no like him.
AVtite man liar— he cheat — no good. Me kill many
white man — me sorry me can't kill more. Me soon
gone to my fathers — ^bad Indian shoot me in the dark
— me no see him "

He uttered a few more broken sentences, and then
sank in death. All was over with him, and his spirit
had fled .to its forest h-ome in the spirit land.

Eeturning to Philip, they communicated his dying

214 PIONEER LIFE.

words to him, representing him as a gigantic and
powerful savage; and so far as they could discover
in the dark, extremely repulsive and loathsome.

The question which now presented itself, was that
relating to the cause of the battle. It was evident
to our party that they had not been discovered. This
was, to aU appearance, a niost singular occurrence.
The attack was suddien and without any previous
alarm; and it was evident that the party attacked
had no ex{)ectation of attack.

While thus meditating over this mysterious oc-
currence, our heroes were once more startled in their
camp by the mingled yells of the victors returning
to the spot where they had made their onset.

"Oil, God!" exclaimed the frightened Lilly," on
hearing the yells of the returning savages, "we are
lost beyond redemption."

' * No, no, ' ' said Phili'p, ' 'you need have no fears of
that; these Indians are not hostile to the American
cause ; otherwise they would not have made such an
onslaught on their red brethren.!'

"Ah, but," replied Lilly, "you can not be certain
which of the two parties, if any, are our friends. ' '
, " The evidence of the dying savage will determine
that point," said Philip. "No, dearest Lilly, give
yourself no uneasiness about your safety, I am con-
fident all is right."

On reaching the spot, where the action took place,
they struck a fire, and pitched their tents. Bright,
blazing fires were seen sending their lights through
the dark woods ; and the Indians commenced seating
themselves in groups around them.

On ascending the side of the hill, Philip could dis-
tinctly discover the Indian camp; and upon exami-
nation he thought he recognized one countenance
among them which he had seen somewhere before.

" 'Tis he," said Philip io himself, " 'tis he— yes.
I hm almost confident tis he — I will venture nearer

PIONEER LIFE. ^15

at all events, ' ' and so saying, the young man groped
his way through the' forest until he came within thir-
ty or forty paces of one of the fires, when to his no
little satisfaction he discovered that the familiar
countenance was none other than Beaver's. Quietly
returning to- his companions, he communicated his
joyful discovery, and the wtole mystery disap-
peared. In a few moments afterwards arrangements
vere made to enter Beaver's camp, (which was ac-
pomplished without any difficulty or danger,) when
they Were joyfully received and comfortably enter-
tained; 'and after partaking of some refreshments,
Beaver entertained the party with a full history of
the particulairs of his present adventure, which we
propose to lay before the reader in the next chapter.

CHAPTER XXXVI,

BEAVEE'S BATTLE WITH INDIANS— DEATH OF KANOTCHY

Brutus won the world's applause

When his arm bade Caesar perish,

Why not then young Beaver's praise *

In our memories fondly cherish.

One dark and windy night, in the month of April,
1813, one Capt. Wm. Oliver, in company with a young
Kentuckian, left Fort Meigs for Ft. I indley^ a dis-
tance of abont thirty-three miles. It was about nine
o 'clock when they started on their journey, which at
this period, was considered extremely perilous. They
had not proceeded far when they came suddenly in
sight of an Indian camp, around the fires of which
the savages were busy preparing their suppers.
They had approached within disturbing distance of
the savages, who on hearing the noise of their horses'
hoofs, sprang to their feet and with savage yells at-
tacked them. On ' hearing their yells, they reined
their horses into the branches of a fallen tree. The
horses, as if conscious of the danger, stood perfectly
still. The Indians, supposing them to have retreated
towards the Fort, pursued them, passing around the
tree without making any discovery of them in the
thick darkness. As soon as the Indians had gone
some distance, they put spurs to their horses and
dashed forward through the woods through which
they passed all the way to their destination, where
they arrived safely with the exception of their
clothes, which were torn into rags by bushes and
bramjbles. In this rapid flight they received quite a
nupiber of contusions against the trees, leaving sev-
eral marks upon their bodies. They had scarcely

PIONEER LIFE. 217

made secure their flight into the Fort when the In-
dians also made their appearance; but they were
too late for their prey, and consequently commenced
to retreat.

The next day a party of soldiers accompanied the
Captain and his companion back to Fort Meigs,
when the Captain made known to the officers his
, night journey through the wilderness.

"The damn 'red sticks,' " exclaimed a tall young
Indian Chief, "me hunt 'em up — ^me'give 'em what
white, man call ' 'ticklar h — ^11.' ' And so, saying, he
called around him his young and fiery warriors, and
after addressing them for a few moments in his own
language, they left the Fort amid the cheers of the
.(Americans.

They soon came to the camp at which Capt. Oliver
had been surprised. The pursuing Indians had re-
turned to this camp the next morning, from which
they had proceeded toward the Lake down the bank
of the Maumee, until thej*^ discover'ed the trail of
what they supposed to be a party of whites. This
they followed until the shades of night closed around
them, and they halted for the purpose of encamping
till morning. In descending the ravine in which
Philip and his company had made their camp they
were surprised to find it already occupied, but the
fire being immediately extinguished they could not
exactly say whether the party were whites or In-
dians, a fact which they wished verified before mak-
ing, the attack. Coming to a halt on the brow of one
of the banks of the ravine, they lay down flat upon
the ground, awaiting the- result of their observation.

As the Indians lay in this position, Beaver and. his
party, who had been closely pursuing them, advanced
upon them, arranging his men in the most favorable
position, commanded them to make sure of their
prey. \

At the signal of their commander, the deep silence
of that wilderness was broken by the sharp reports

218 PIONEER LIFE.

of the death-dealing rifles, ringing through that dark
forest ; and the mingled yells of nearly three score
of savages rose above the din of, battle.

The prostrate Indians were perfectly panic-
stricken ; and those who survived the onset sprang to
their feet and bounding down the bank of the ra-
vine, endeavored to make their escape as best they
could through the deep darkness of the night.

Beaver and his warriors pursued them down the
ravine for some distance ; but loosing sight of them
after they had foUewed them several miles, returned
to the place }vhere they had attacked them. On their
return Philip recognized the noble hearted Chief, to
whom he made himself and party known, and under
whose protection he placed- himself and little party
till morning.

Philip related to young Beaver his, adventures
since he had seen him, and gave him the full particu-
lars of affairs at Maiden. The young Chief seemed
much interested, and applauded our hero very
highly.

Beaver was much struck with the appearance of
Lilly, and readily -entered into conversation with her,
bestowing upon her many complimentary considera-
tions.

The hour of midnight had flown before our heroes
closed their eyes in sleep. The evening had passed
away most pleasantly, and the hours seeemd but mo-
ments. Philip and his companions had not enjoyed
must rest for some nights previous, and they sig-
nalled their wish to enjoy a few hours' sleep; accord-
ingly, they lay down upon their blankets, under cover
of a tent, before a blazing fire and slept soundly till
morning.

As the light of day broke in upon the forest, the
Indans were astir, and after plundering the dead of
their arms and clothing, they started for the cave of
Captain Pipe, in company with Philip and his com-
panions.

PIONEER LIFE. ^ ' 219*

Bpfore leaving the camp, Philip informed Beaver
of the conversation which Alfred had held with a dy-
ing Indian, after the battle. Whereupon Beaver had
his body brought into the camp for burial.

Lilly and Philip on beholding him were no little
astonished to find him to be no other than the re-
pulsive and bloody Kanotchy, the murderer of Kate-
Seymour. ' .

"Great God!" exclaimed Lily, "this is the same,
Indian who tore me away from piy devoted father—
this is the merciless and unfeeling Kanotchy. My
prayer is answered — the curse of Heaven has fallen
upon him, and he has met his fate in a moment least
expected. Poor fellow ! ' ' said she, ' ' after all I can-
not ielp pitying him. ' '

"Pity the devil!" said Billy, "ith a pity he hadn't
thucked himthelf to death thortly after he came to
life on the thage of action."

For a few moments Philip and Lilly stood gazing
upon the lifeless remains of this bloody savage, while-
thoughts of other days rose fresh in their memories.
Before them lay the murderer of Kate, and the ab-
dueter of Lilly, but the arm which ha^, struck the
fatal blow was now paralyzed by the hand of death.

Philip, on first beholdijig the wretch, had his
feelings wrought up to a high pitch of exciten^ent,.
and could scarcely refrain from hewing his body to-
pieces; but a sober, reflection taught him that such-
an act 'would not satisfy the demands of vengeance.
After hastily depositing him with his dead compan-
ions, the party left the camp and proceeded to the
cave of Captain Pipe, where they arrived a little-
after night fall. Beaver and his warriors ha^ accom-
panied them within a few miles of their destination,
and then retraced their steps to Harrison's Head.
Quarters.

CHAPTEE XXXVII.

CAPT. PIPE'S MEETING WITH HIS DAUGHTEB— EXPECTED
' • ATTACK OF THE BRITISH.

"Kind HeaTren, whose power no being can control
Hath sent her back to cheer the Chieftain's soul."

The pleasure and happiness which Capt. Pipe ex-
perienced at the meeting of his daughter cannot be
pictured. ^

We admire the sentiment expressed by the poetic
Dryden, in one of his celebrated odes, when he says

"Sweet is pleasure after pain."

This sentiment the reader has, no doubt, often ex-
perienced. In most instances, the pleasure we re-
ceive, after undergoing days? months or years of
painful anxietes, is heightened with the contrast of
the past. "V^e look back on the past, and remember
its struggles — the difficulties, privations and sorrows
with which we had to contend ; and contrasting them
with our emancipation from them all, we seem to
realize an extent of pleasurable sensations beyond
our most sanguine expectations.

Earth with its grand and magnificent scener^^ was
educed from chaos and darkness; and gold which
exhibits the most dazzling lustre, is first tortured
into purity by the action of fire. "When the desolat-
ing energies of the hurricane have passed over our
heads, a tranquil calm soothes our fears; and sun-
shine bright and gladdening breaks over the earth,
as the dark cloud passes away.

That "sweet is pleasure after pain" was fully re-
alized by Captain Pipe, as his lost and deeply
mourned daughter entered his lonely cavern.

PIONEER LIFE, 321

Springing into the arms of her father, she clasped
■him around the neck, and sobbed aloud. Her young'
heart was too full to speak,^the old man wept like
a child.

' ' My devoted father, ' ' -exclaimed Lilly, as soon as
she could give utterance to her language, "I have
long coveted this happiness. God has heard my pra;^-
ers; and oh! bless His holy name, He has spared
my life once more to behold the guardian and pro-
tector of my childhood. Oh, father! father! God
bless my poor old father ! "

She could say no more, and- hanging upon the old
Chieftain's neck, she wept tears of joy.

" OnisMshsha," exclaimed the old man, after his
feelings had somewhat subsided, "this is the happi-
est moment of my life. I feel that the Great Spirit
has answered my prayers. You have been ruthless-
ly torn from my protection ; and exposed to the in-
sults and wicked designs of unfeeling villains. For
many days past I have been the subject of sorrow
and aflfliction. Dreary and disconsolate weeks and
months have passed over my head since last I saw
you. Often and often in my solitary moments, when
sorrow bowed my spirit down, I have offered up to
Heaven a parent's prayer in your behalf, and al-
though a mysterious gloom hung over your destiny,
yet I have felt that we would meet again. We have
met; yes, thank Heaven, my weary eyes, though
dimmed with age, have once more rested upon her to
whom_I am bound by the strong ties of parental af-
fection."

During this affecting coUiquy, Philip and his com-
panions had remained silent ; but their feelings were
in harmony with the old man and his affectionate
daughter. The interview was of the most affecting
nature, and the young men, though silent, wept like
children.

The Captain then turned to the young hunters, and
thus addressed them:

■222 PIONEER LIFE.

"Gentlemen, to yoii I am indebted for the heart-
felt .happiness I this moment experience. You have
brought to my soul a world of joy in returning to me
this dear creature. It is not in my power to reward
you pecuniarily for this great service Wliich you
have tendered me. Gold and silver possess no mer-
its to requite this act of kindness. The wealth of the^
world is but a poor remuneration ; and I cannot es--
timate this act of humanity, only by the standard of
eternal happiness, which I pray the Great Spirit to
confer upon you all. You have encountered and tri-
umphed over the thousand difficulties and perils
which beset the lives of pioneers — others would have
grown weary and discouraged, and abandoned the
enterprise as hopeless and reckless. But in you, I
^nd all the elements necessary for carrying out any
undertaking, however seemingly impracticable. And
here permit me to say to you, that this act of kind-
ness shall be remunerated. " '

"Captain," exclaimed Philip, "I thank you most
affectionately for the distinguished consideration
with which you so -generously regard my companions
and myself. You speak of remuneration. Sir, I am
already remunerated. I have been fully compensated
for all the difficulties and dangers through which I
have passed in performing this ^uty. The gratifica-
tion arising from the knowledge of one's having ren-
dered his fellow man a service when he most stands
in need of it, is a better remuneration than all the
riches of the world. With you, sir, I too can rejoice,
and with you too, I can weep. ' '

"Venerable sir," said Alfred, "I am happy to ex-
press my 'thanks to you for your favorable opinion
of myself. This distinguished consideration is fully
appreciated ; and here permit me to assure you that
in addition to what little I have already done to se-
cure the happiness of you and your daughter, I am
willing to go upon any errand of mercy or humanity
you may be pleased to send me."

PIONEEK LIFE.

223

"Thee here, Mr. Alf, by the mother of Motheth,
and that hainth thaying anything bad about the
gallth, I'll go with you — even tho far ath to the
thouth gate of the bottomleth pit, on thuch an er-
rand. ' '

During the conversation Lilly had been seated by
the side of ^er father, now and then wiping the tears
from her father, as she listened to expressions of the
high regard for her happiness manifested by her
deliverers.

Philip's, mind as he lay down to rest, dwelt upon
the yoiing maiden; and strange thoughts were pass-
ing through the mind of Alfred Bradley, whose mem-
ory d"«relt upon the early recollections of home and
friends. Where was he now? In the heart of a
dreary, wilderness, far from the land of his nativity.
How strange the tide of life— ^how full of change and
strange events. He had been thrown upon life's cur-
rent without a knowledge of where his fortune would
lead — he was now in the wild woods, and at thatmo-
ment was reposing, not upon some soft and downy
bed, in some gorgeous palace, but in the da!rk cav-
erns pf cold earth among savages.

Among Alfred's thoughts, it must be confessed,
were those of the young woman whose personal
charms Jiad made so deep an impression on his mind,
not an impression of connubial love; such thoughts
had not entered his mind. His was the affection
which a true and generous mind bears toward an
object of real and commanding merit.

"Heavens!" said he to himself, "she is lovely,
graceful and enchanting. She is worthy of com-
panionship among angels. No wonder Philip has
periled his life in her rescue~I myself would risk ten
thousand such lives as mine to rescue hers from the
hands of savage lords. How much her countenance
resembles little Anna's — r)oor child — no doubt she's

224 PIONEEE LIFE.

mother. As we have said strange thoughts filled his
mind — ^liis feelings were unaccountably strange-^he
had heard and read of brothers meeting brothers,
and sisters meeting sisters^ when least expected.

Could she be his long lost sister? Impossible;
no, not impossible — but doubtful in the extreme ; and
even if she were, how could that fact now be made
known. There could be now no reliable* evidence of
the fact ; and he abandoned the idea as preposterous,
or to say the least of it very doubtful; and settling
his thoughts, Ms consciousness was soon shrouded
in dreamless slumber.

Morning dawned, and our little party were astir.
A consultation was held, in which it was agreed that
Philip and his companions would immediately repair ;
to the Head Quarters of General Harrison, and fight
for their country. Before starting Philip took from
his pocket a finger ring, and putting it into the hands
of Lilly, bid her wear it in memory of the past. Lilly
recognized the ring, and burst into a flood of tears,
as ihat memorable occasion in which it was bestowed
upon the ill fated Kate came fresh in her mind.

In due time Philip reached the garrison, where, he
found Harrison making preparations for the ex-
pected attack, of the British on the Fort.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

ATTACK ON FT. MEIGS— MASSACEE- OF COL. DUDLEY'S
COMPANY.

Gleam the fed tomahawks on every side,

Then fly the cloven brains, and rolls the purple tide.

And savage yiells on every hand resound,

While dead and dying strew the forest round.

Leaving the young woman in the hands of her
father, in the cavern, we shall in this chapter follow
np the adventures of our heroes after their arrival
at Fort Meigs.

Philip had been made acquainted through Lilly
of Proctoi"s design to lay siege to this Fort; and he
wished to throw in his mite in its defense ; and with
this consideration uppermost in his heart, he left the
'idol of his soul for the seat of war.

As a matter of history we would here state, that
a few days previous to the departure of the British
and Indian forces for Fort Meigs, Gen. Proctor held
a conference with Tecumseh at his (Tecumseh's
Quarters) in which arrangements were made for the
proposed attack.

"Tecumseh," said Proctor, "the bravery of your
warriors, as exhibited in the defeat of General Win-
chester, on the River Raisin, has been highly ap-
plauded by the loyal subjects of the King your
father ; and for your valuable services, he will richly
rewards you, by driving the white rebels off your
land, restoring them to you. It is now our inten-
tion of storm Fort Meigs, the Headquarters of Gren-
^eral Harrison, and in this undertaking your services
are indispensably necessary. You have about one

226 ' . PIONEEB LIFE.-

will please place in such positions; as are best adapt-
ed to their mode of fighting; and bid to remeimber
that the standing orders of the siege are 'Ho quar-
ters to the d — — n rebels.' "

"Sir," replied the noble Chief, "I lift up my
hatchet only to save the lives of my people and pro-
tect my country ; and under this consideration I am
ready to follow you in battle."

"Well," sajd Proctor, "it is for you alone that
the King has sent his subjects here. -They come to
help you regain your lands from these plundering
white rebels."

In the course of ten or twelve days after this con-
versation one afternoon as the forces of Geh. Har-
rison were gathered together on parade before the
camp, Bunty Billy came running up to one of. the
officers, exclaiming:

' ' Thee here, Mith'er officer, ' ' pointing his finger to-
wards two strangers on the opposite side ofthe river,
"thee there's two thuthpithious looking fellowth
thanding oil the other side of the river, can't you
give 'em a thuitable invitation to yap you a nearer '
vithet."

■ "Certainly, my little man," said the officer; and
turning to his men, made them clear the battery, and
forthwith the -engine was pointed towards them, and
the next moment the earth was seen flying about
them in all directions.

"By the beard of Mahomet," exclaimed the officer,"
' ' that was an admirable shot. See ! the devils are off
like a hurricane — straight for Canada."

Happy it would have been for many a gallant hero,
had that missile brought death to those two Chief-
tains, who were none others than Proctor and Tecum-,
seh.

Some time after dark of the same night, three
young men entered Fort Meigs with the startling in-
telligence that a large body of British and Indians
had landed their forces on the hill on the north side

PIOSTEEB'LIFE.

227

of the river, and were busily engaged in erecting-
their batteries preparatory to an attack the n^xt
morning.

Morning came, revealing to the General, the army
of Proqtorand Tecumseh on a commanding eminence
on the opposite of the river; the main part being
stationed at the old English Fort, some distance be-
low.

On .one bank of that turbid stream were stationed
the haughty legions of Proctor, and his bloody allies,
the merciless Indians ; on the other was the gallant
Harrison and his hardy pioneers.

■'Twas morning — a ' lovely May inorning. The
golden sun was wheeling up his chariot of light
above the tinted horizon. The mingled melodies of
the woodland minstrels were floating upon the soft
and balmy morning air, filling the forest with the
most enchanting strain; little dreaming of the hor-
rible storm of war then gathering in deadly gloom
over that garden vale of the Mauniee.

Hark 'tis the trump of war — the camion's mighty
roar. The siege has now commenced,, and cannon
answers to the booming cannon's roar, while the firm,
solid earth seems to tremble under the mighty shock;
for three"; successive days.

' ' See ! Greneral, ' ' exclaimed one of the officers,
"the Indians have crossed the river and are ascend-
ing the tops of the trees upon the brow of yonder
hill."'

At this moment a message was received from Proc-
tor, requesting the surrender of the Fort. General
Harrison told the messenger to tell Col. Proctor to
come and take it; but to be sure and bring a "suffi-
cient force to accomplish the undertaking. On re-
ceiving Harrison's reply, the cannonading again
commenced. Observing a burning missile falling
near the powder magazine, he asked his soldiers if
they would volunteer to remove the powder to a

228 ~ PIONEER LIFE.

dangerous operation, and was undertaken with some
degree of reluctance by the solliiers. The enemy
comprehended the'movement, and commenced direct-
ing their hot shot upon the workmen, which sent
many a poor fellow to his last resting place.

In this undertaking were found the three heroes
of our tale. The workmen had not been long en-
gaged in this operation, when there came whizzing
from the enemy's battiery a messenger of death,
which passing the head of Bunty Billy took off the
head of a workman by his side.

"Thath, one head leth," said Billy, "by ginth,
ther'e tharp thopterth," and so saying he plied his
spade with more haste. "Come gentlmen," con-
tinued he, "let uth get the butheneth done as thpee-
dy ath pothible— ith no foolth job to -"

But beffore he could finish his sentence a bomb
came' whirling through the air, and falling, lodged
in one of the braces, spining ' around for a moment.
Every soldiier, wit*h the exception of Billy, fell pros-
trate on his face, waiting the horrid explosion which
they supposed would terminate their sufferings.

" There 'th thomething about thith ball," said Bil-
ly, -"thath not the thimon pure. He dont't feel in-
clined to burtht no how, and he ith thomewhat thlow
in hith movement, I'll just take out hith nozzle and
give him thome freth air," and so saying Billy
seized a boat hook, and pulling the missing missile
to the ground, jerked out the smoking match from
its socket to the no small astonishment, and infinite
delight of his companions. On examination the-
shell -was found to be filled with inflammable matter,
which once ignited would have wrapped the whole
building in one sheet of lurid flame. This circum-
stance, it is said, lent wings to > their shovels, and
with the loss of some of their companions the work
was soon completed.

On the night of the 4th of May, about 12 o'clock,

PIONEER LIFE. 229"

a messenger arrived at Fort Meigs, bringing the
welcome intelligence of the near arrival of General
Clay, with his brave Kentuckians— that he was with-
in two hours ' march of the Fort. Harrison had been
daily expecting him, and on receiving this intelli-
gence sent orders for him to land eight hundred of
his men on the right bank, take possession of and
spike their cannon ,and then immediately return to
their boats and cross the river and seek protection
in the Fort. The remainder of his forces were to
land on the left bank and fight their way to the Fort,
while sorties were to be made from the garrison iij
aid of this operation.' Col. Dudley, Itieing eldest in
command, led the van. He effected the landing of his
men without difficulty, and executed the orders of
his General, after which, he galled upon his men to
fly to the boats ; but they disobeyed his orders, and
sent up a shout of triumph; and permitted them-
selves to be drawn in ambush by the Indians.

General Harrison and some of his officers were
standing upon the grand battery, and seeing the
danger into which the. infatuated soldiers of Col.
Dudley were plunging themselves, beckoned them
to return; but the soldiers supposing them to be
returning the cheers, they reiterated their shouts of
triumph. Harrison,' seeing their reckless infatua-
tion, cried put in tones of deepest anguish:

"They are lost! they are lost! A thousand dol-
lars to .any man who will cross that river and inform
Col. Dudley of his danger."

This was attempted, but before tlie gallant young
' men had reached the middle of the river, {he British
and Indians had cut off their retreat, and now the
work of death had commenced. They now saw their
hopeless condition. The red hounds of hell came
pouring round the terror-stricken soldiers in over-
whelming numbers, while their shouts andj^ells rent
the forest with the most appalling din.

The battle now commenced in earnest, and hand

230 _ PIONEER LIFE.

to hand and face to face they fought and fell. The
Americans were defeated and surrendered them-
selves prisoners of war. As their arms were taken
from them, the mingled yells of that wood full of
savages rose high above the cannon's roar, echoing
through that wilderness, like the dismal shout of ten
thousand devils in the gloomy caverns of perdition.
They were lost!

The prisoners were given up to the tender mercies
of the savages, who after conducting ihem to the old
garrison, commenced the work of butchery, under
the eyes of the loathsome and detestable Proctor.
The work of death had commenced, and the red cur-
rent of life was soon flowing from the bodies of the
mangled wretches.

"While this was going on, a raging thundering
voice was heard in the distance, and the next moment
a bold and graceful chief reined his fiery steed in
their midst, and dismounted near where two of his
brethren were in the act of murdering a prisoner.
He seized one by the throat, and the other by the
breast, and with one powerful effort threw them t6
the-ground. Then drawing his tomahawk and scalp-
ing knife, he ran between the prisoners and the In-
dians with the fury of a madman and dared any of
the hundreds which surrounded him to attempt to
murder another white prisoner. Then turning round
he exclaimed:

"Where is Gen'l Proctor?"

Proctor, who 'was standing at a short distance off
conversing with an Indian Chief, exclaimed in a
cowardly tone :

"Here I am."

"Then, sir,'_' replied the distinguished Chief,
"why don't you stop this inhuman butchery?"

" Sir, ' '. replied this cowardly human brute, ' ' your
Indians cannot be controlled."

"Begone then from my sight," retorted the noble

PIONEEB LIFE.

231

hearted savage; "you are not fit to command— go
and put on •petticoats."

This cutting reproof stung Proctor to the heart,
he bit hife lips with rage, but had not the manhood
to reply, and returning to his savage companion re-
newed- the conversation.

"Captain Montour," said Proctor, "I sh9,ll look
for you at your post at the appointed time. The
Indian bowed his assent, and the next moment put-
ting spurs to his horse, he dashed off rapidly to-
wards Fort Maiden.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

CAPTAIN MONTOUE SUEPBISED AT LILLY'S ESCAPE— AN-
OTHEE ATTACK ON FOET MEIGS.

He sought in vain the maiden fair —
His prize had gone — he knew not where.

Captain Montour, mentioned in the last chapter,
was originally from Black Fork in Eichland county.
He belonged to the Delawares at Greeiitown. This
Indian was highly intellectual, and had graduated
at Cannonsburgh college. He was a sharp, shrewd
villain. On being made acquainted with the history
of ^his race, he found that they had been greatly im-
posed upon by the whites. This knowledge embit-
tered him against the whites, and he only waited
an oJ)portunity to direct his influence against them.
The opportunity was offered in the last year with
England. Some time during the year of 1811, Te-
cumseh paid him a visit at Greentown, and with the
promise of being promoted to office he secTlred his
services. Montour sought an interview with Cap-
tain Pipe, in hopes of securing his influence on the
side of Tecumseh ; l^ut the Captain treated his pro-
posal with contempt, alleging as his reason for so
doing the consideration of the fact that he had
signed the treaty at Grreenville in 1795, at which
'time he had pledged his honor that he would forever
afterwards maintain his integrity.

This enraged the haughty Chief, and he vowed
vengeance. Hitherto Montour had been on terms
of friendship with Captain Pipe, and had endeavored
to insinuate himself into the favor and esteem of his
daughter OnishishsJia.

PIONEER LIFE. 233^

Montour was a handsome and intelligent Indian,,
and Lilly had shown him some respSct, (but enter-
tiained no sentiments of love for him,) but on his at-
tempt to dissuade the mind of her parents from in-
tegrity, she became highly incensed against him, and
abruptly left his company. Shortly afterwards Mon-
tour left Black Fork, and threw himself under the
protection of the British government in Canada^
where he received the commission of captain.

As soon as the war broke out, this perfidious vil-
lain sought every opportunity to wreak his venge-
ance on Captain Pipe, who had, as he conceived,,
offered him a base insult. To attempt to take the
life of the Captain he knew would not do, as it would
call down upon him the vengeance of many who,,
though opposed to the American cause, were never-
theless his firm friends.

He had sought the hand of Lilly, but she had in-
dignantly refused him ; and he determined to wrest,
her from her father by force. For this purpose he
engaged the service- of the bloody Kanotchy, and
some others. Kanotchy was instructed to watch the
movements of Captain Pipe, and communicate the
same to Montour. Accordingly, as soon as Kanotchy
learned that Captain Pipe had determined to re-
move to Cleveland, he sent Montour the intelligence,
requesting him to meet him on the bank of the Lake
near Cleveland;

Kanotchy and his accomplices followed the Cap-
tain and his daughter to Cleveland, and on the fol-
lowing evening found Lilly alone as she was seated
upon the bank of the Lake, and approaching her,
seized her in his arms a.nd bore her off to Montour,,
who having all things in readiness, hastened away
with her to Maiden, where she was found by Philip
and his companions. Kanotchy with his companions
immediately returned to Black Fork .in order to

:234: ' PIONEEE LIFE.

On arrival at Fort Maiden, after the first siege
•of Fort Meigs, Montour was no little surprised on
finding that his intended victim had escaped. She
-was missing. He made 'strictly inquiry as to her di^
appearance, but could gain no information respect-
ing her elopement, and he almost came to the con-
iclusion that some invisible agent had aided her in
•escaping, as she had repeatedly told him that unseen
guardians were daily attending her footsteps, and
that the Great Spirit to whom she had committed
lier entire being would some day visit him, and all
-the others concerned in her abductions with condign
punishment.

Montour spent the greater part of the day in
^searching for information respecting Lilly, but all
-to no purpose. At length he thought of the three
prisoners, who a few weeks previous had been taken
into the garrison, and on enquiry, he found that they,
too, were among the missing. He fui'ther ascer-
tained that two female Indians had passed by these
prisoners, as they were seated on the shore of the
;stream, but could not ascertain their names.

Taking these things into consideration, the disap-
pointed and outwitted Chief rightly inferred that
they had been sent in search, of the girl, and had
-carried their scheme into successful operation.

Montour, finding that he had been outwitted by the
whites, became more deeply exasperated, and swear-
ing vengeance upon every white man, he again
crossed the river, and at the appointed time, called
upon General Proctor, and informed him of what
had transpired in the Fort since they had left, and
signified his willingness to hazard his life in any
enterprise which promised the destruction of every
American rebel.

"Well," said Proctor, "I have concluded to re-
new the siege of Fort Miegs. Calm and deliberate
-consideration bas induced me to believe that a sec-
ond attempt will be successful. But on calling a

PIONEEE LIFE.

235

council of war it was agreed not to commence the
attack again until they had collected a sufficient force
to take the Fort by storm. But before retreating-
to Maiden, Proctor made another demand on Gen-
eral Harrison to surrender. But Harrison admon-
ished the cowardly butcherer not to repeat it, upon
which Proctor withdrew his forces to Maiden, and
after remaining there a few days returned; and on
the 22d day of May made another attack, but met
with no better success than before, and again re-
treated in confusion, covered with disgrace, to his
Head Quarters, where he medidated an attack upon
Fort .Stephenson, on the Sandusky.

In a few days after the second siege of Fort Meigs,
Philip and his companions paid another visit to the
cave of Captain Pipe, for the purpose of persuading
him to leave the cavern and take refuge in Fort
Meigs. But the Captain declined, and gave as his
reason the uncei'tainty of war, and in case of sur-
render or capture, 'his daughter would meet with no
mercy from the hands of her savage foes. He felt
entire safety where he was, as the cavern was un-
known.

'^But go," "said he, "fight for and defend your
brethren, and should you fall in defending them,
.your death will be the more glorious." •

"Oh, father!" exclaimed his daughter with tears
in her eyes, "he must not die."

"My God, Mitheth Lilly," said Billy, "don't think
of the liketh; you couldn't kill Mathter Philip, no
how . .if he wath to be thot, he wouldn't thtay that
long enopgh to thay from you ten minuth. Darn his
picturth, if he would."

"Pshaw Billy," replied Alfred, "you're jesting;
Philip's visits her? are on business relating exclus-
ively to the father."

"Mebbe tho," said Billy; "well, if thath the-
cathe, I do athure you, it muth be moth thunderen

236 PIONEEB LH-E.

urgent, for when he tharth to come, he putteth ahead
like a thunder gutht."

At this juncture Alfred could no longer restrain
his risibilities," and giving vent to his feeling in-
dulged in a paroxysm of hearty laughter.

"Come, come, Billy," said Philip, "none of your
nonsense; your gettng overly romantic since you
made your last will and testament to your fair vic-
tress on the arena at the village of Wapakonnetta. "

As soon as Philip had finished his reply to Billy,
he proceeded to give the old man and his daughter
an account of the siege and affairs at Fort Meigs,
and after remaining a day or two with the Chieftain,
he and his companions again set out for the Fort,
for the purpose of securing a position in the army
in which they might be the most servicable to their
country.

Some few days, previous to the attack upon Fort
Stephenson, Billy and his companions set out on a
reconnoitering expedition with the intention of vis-
iting Major Croghan at Fort Stephenson. The
young men directed their steps towards the Lake
shore, about twenty miles from the Fort. But owing
tp the numerous swamps and the darkness, of ^the
night, they missed their way, and wandering in the
woods, suddenly came upon a party of Indians
seated around their camp-fire, apparently in the
greatest glee, making merry over their evening meal.
There were three of them in company.* Getting
within shooting distance, they fired, and the next
moment the savages were writhing in the throes of
death.

* One of these was named Sacamane, already spoken of in a
preceding note. Billy recognized him, having seen him with two
others enter the village, with several white scalps' into which Billy
had been taken prisoner. Thus perished another of the Biehland
county scourges.

CHAPTER XXXX.

GEN. HAEEISON INVADING CANADA— DEATH OP

TECUMSEH.

While clouds of sulphur compass them around
The dead and dying strew the. gory ground,
The day is lost, some in confusion fly,
Some stand their ground and resolutely die.

September the tenth, 1813, is a day ever memor-
able in the annals of American history. Two hos-
tile armies were stationed on the opposite shores of
the Lake, awaiting the result of the battle in dread-
ful suspense. The battle was fought midway be-
tween those two armies, on Lake Erie, a few miles
distant from the Ottawa line, between Commodore
Perry, commander of the American fleet and Com-
modore Barclay of the British fleet. At fifteen min-
ntes past eleven o'clock the sound of the war bugle
was heard stealing over the waters of that tranquil
lake, from the Detroit, the eniemy's headmost ship,
and the next moment loud and deafening cheers from
all the crews rose in mid air, followed by the more
appalling cannon's roar. The battle had commenced,
and for three dreadful hours were the waters of that
beautiful lake shaken by the storm of battle. 'Tis
over. The Americans ^re victorious, and the thun-
ders of the battle are hushed in silence, save the dy-
ing moans of the mangled warriors strewn upon the
decks.

'Twas four o'clock, when the gallant Perry, fold-
ing up a piece of paper placed it into the hands of
a messenger, who leaving the scene of bloodshed.

238 PIONEER LIFE.

hands the message from P^ry. Hastily tearing it
open the General read aloud, while a breathless an-
xiety rested on the minds of his officers and soldiers :

GrESTERAL Harrison — SiR : We have met the enemy
and they are ours. ' ^

0. H. Pebry.

On hearing this welcome intelligence, one long and
loud shout of "long live" the gallant Perry," rose
high above the forest trees around Fort Meigs. -

This brilliant victory inspired the American Gen-
eral with the most sanguine expectations of the full
completion of all the contemplated- objects of the ex-
pedition, and he accordingly made preparations to
strike the decisive blow, by inyading Canada.

Accordingly the most energetic preparations were
put in operation, and on the morning of September
the 27th, the whole army, artillery, military, stores,
provisions, and troops were ready for embarkation.
Before starting General Harrison addressed his
army.

' ' Fellow soldiers, ' ' said he, ' ' there is a future in
the tide of war, when conducted in the light of self
defence. Our soil has been invaded by his Majesty's
soldiers — they have, in numerous instances, des-
poiled the homies of our brethren and murdered our
defenseless citizens, plundering and despoiling them
of their home and property. These butrages must
be avenged. Eemember the River Eaisin, but re-
member it only whilst victory is suspended. The re-
venge of a soldier cannot be gratified on a fallen
enemy. "

Towards sundown of the same day, on the site of
Maiden, which they found- in ruius; the army had*
landed in high spirits ; but the enemy had aband-
oned their stronghold, and retreated to Sandwich,
after dismantling Maiden, burning the barracks and
navy yard, and stripping the adjacent country of-
horses and cattle.

PIONEEK LIFE. 239

As Philip once more stood upon the site of Mai-
den, :the recollection of Lilly came fresh into his
mind. How different the appearance now. When
here before, it presented a busy scene of active life,.
where groups of British and Indians were seen en-
gaged in making mirthfulness and-sport. Here, too,,
his eyes first rested uj)on Lilly after a long and pain-
ful absence — here on this field of ruins — even where
he now stands he had experienced emotions of hap-
piness, inexpressibly exquisite.

But now Lilly was secure in the care of her father,
while her captors and enemies %ere flying fugitives.
Proctor and Tecumseh, and their pretty minion,
Montour, with his cowardly fellows,- were retreating
up the Thames before their pursuers.

The troops of Harrison had advanced within three-
miles of the Moravian town, within one mile of the
enemy.

On the 5th they were discovered in a skillfully
chosen position. A narrow strip of dry land flanked"
by the Eiver Thames lay on their left, and a swamp
on their right.^ This position was occupied by the'
regular infantry and artillery, while on the right
flank lay Tecuinseh and his followers, on the eastern
margin of the swamp. The position of the enemy
was the most judicious and advantageous ; but Proc-
tor, through error, had formed his infantry in error^
and he directed Colonel Johnson to dasli {hrough the-
enemy's line in colmnn, knowing that the troops dis-
posed in such order- as Proctor had made, could not
resist the charge of mounted men.

At the command of their gallant leader, the
mounted men commenced the charge.

Behold with what impetuosity they rush upon the
charging squadrons — even up to the cannon's moiith,.
and the flashing musketry, blazing forth their fires
of death — the melee of horses and riders mingled

240 PIONEER LP'E.

ated combatants, rushing upon each other, changed
ihat hitherto silent forest into a scene of excitement
a,nd daring and horror that made many a heart turn
cold. Next came the piles of dead and dying, whose
pitiful groans revealed a world of woe in their dying
agonies.

The movement was successful, and that firm, solid
•earth rooted line was broken, and piles of mangled
human flesh lay strewn over the earth. Upon the
left the contest raged with most desperate and ap^
palling severity.

There stood the exasperated savages unwilling to
yield leaving Tecumseh, and his warriors unpro-
iected. They seemed determined to conquer or die.
Brave fellows! there they stood animated by their
gallant leader, pouring death and destruction upon
their white assailants, while around them living men
fell at every discharge. Tecumseh's voice is the den
of battle animating his men to stand their ground —
"but the fire of their enemies was growing too warm.
His warriors were falling around him — and he saw
the tide of battle rolling against him.

"To the woods — to the woods," shouted their
brave and daring leader, and the next moment the
Indians were seen flying across the hills to seek shel-
ter in a piece of woods on the left, followed by the
Americans., Here Tecumseh made one more desper-
ate effort. A considerable body of Indians had col-
lected there, and the struggle became desperate, and
for a few moments the victory seemed doubtful.

Here again were seen flaunting banners and gaudy
plumes waving and tossing in the air, while the rattle
of drums, shouts of war mingled with the roar of^
musketry; and above the heads of the exasperated
belligerants rose dense volumes of black, sulphurous
smoke, curling in heavy festoons among the forest
trees. The contest grows warmer still, and for a
moment the field seems to be lost. But no !— behold

PIONEER LIFE. 241

yonder moving croud of advancing warriors — the
weary eyes of Tecnmseh gaze with the most intense
interest upon those moving objects.

"Indians, Indians," shouted the brave and ex-
cited Colonel, ' ' steady, men, steady — all now depends
upon your valor. ' '

Onward came the advancing band, with the speed
and energy of the rushing tempest, and in a few mo-
ments another voice rent the air, exclaiming:

' ' 'Tis the gallant Beaver — courage, men, he comes
to join your ranks," and 'ere the shout of joy had
die^ away the gallant Chief threw himself into the
tide of battle with the ocean's mighty surge.

Tecumseh saw his fate, and calling upon his war-
riors, bid them stand and die with their faces to-
wards theii* enemy rather than desert the ground,
and in the act of animating his noble warriors, a ball
pierced his body and' he fell to rise no more. The In-
dians no longer hearing his voice, fled the field in
confusion. '

The battle is ended and the field is left in posses-
sion of the victorious Americans. The battle is over
and the two armies have parted to ineet no more.

CHAPTER XXXXI.

DEATH OF CAPT. MCHSTTOTJE— PHILIP VISITS CAPT. PIPE.

But merciful heavens ! what a soul sickening pic-
ture lay before the victors — all around are piles of
mangled human beings^some dead and some dying,
while the ground, (strewn with the implements, of
war) is drinking up the warm current of life.

Philip and his companions had been in the heal
of the battle, and strange to tell, had passed through
it all unhurt. On, several occasions they, had nar-
rowly escaped, but the demon of war had passed
them by.

• Gazing upon the mangled bodies of friends and
foes as they lay in promiscuous piles besmeared witL
blood and powder, a sickening sensation came ovei'
the soul of the tender hearted Alfred, and he wept^

"Philip," said he, as they sat side by side, in com-
pany with Billy, "war is undoubtedly a most heart-
rending scourge — its effects are lamentable and per-
nicious beyond all human calculation. If we follow
its course up through all the ages of the world, we
shall find its prime object to have been the elevation
of military Chieftains, into notoriety over the de-,
struction of the human family. Look at the mad
expedition of Xerxes against the Grecians — the am
bition of Alexander and his successors — the bloody,
contests between Rome and Carthage, called the
Paunic wars — the mad expeditions of Caesar and
Pompey — the hearf-rending scenes of human suffer-
ing produced throughout Asia and Africa by Maho-
met, and the ferocious and hellish butchers of the
Christian nations by the devilish Turks — I say when
we call to mind all these, with the many horrible and

PIONEER LIFE. 243

bloody butcheries of modern times, in which innum-
erable cities, towns and villages have been laid waste
— provinces and empires overturned, and misery and
suffering entailed upon countless thousands, of the
human race — ^we must unequivocally pronounce war
the most appalling scourge which can befall any peo-
ple or nation."

"Alfred," replied Philip, "I am fully persuaded
of the truth of your remarks. But wars and rumors
of wars will exist, be they right or wrong, as long as
the principle of wrong remains in the human heart.
With you I have often deplored with all the feelings
of humanity, this mammoth evil. But you or I can-
not remedy it. We find it existing and attempting
the destruction of our rights, and true to the instinct
of self-pre'servation we are prompted to defend our
privileges. ' '

"Thee here, gentlemen," said Billy, who had lis-
tened very attentively to the desertation of Alfred
and Philip, "thee here, let me thpeak my thentimenth
of thith important question. I am for war, dot blatht
me if I ain't, and thereth no uthe of denying the fact.
I came here for the purpothe of fighting, and hang
me for a traitor if I don't carry out my principleth
to all intenth and plirpotheth. I'll fight every thing-
that theth me mad except a woman and a thkunk^ and
dad blatht my buttpnth if I'll run more'n a mile -from
theth two animal tli."

"Billy's the chump, " replied Philip, "he hates any
act that would, render either his moral or physical
nature obnoxious to society."

"I underthand yer," replied Billy, and would thay
that I'm obliged to yer, for the compliment."

The young men, who had been seated upon the
trunk of a tree, arose, and passing some distance
along the woods suddenly caihe upon the body of a
wounded Indians. He had fell wounded in the ac-
tion, and dragging himself a short distance, rolled

244 PIONEER LIFE.

heaval of a tree. Here lay the poor fellow, suffer-
ing under several flesh wounds. On seeing our heroes
he cast upon them a pitiful look, and thus addressed
them in good plain English : .

' ' Gentlemen, I am dying. My span of life is at its
close. This beautiful world will soon be hid from
me forever. I have fallen in fighting for the plun-
dered and despoil rights of the red man. I am an
Indian by birth, and an Indian in feeling.

"In the early settlement of this country by the
whites, the red man saw not what was to befall his
race, and he permitted him to settle among us. We
called him brother. But our fathers have been de-
ceived; and we have been treated worse than the
brute creation. The earth was our mother and upon
her lap we reposed ; rude wigwams sheltered us, and
satisfying our hunger and thirst we lay down and
slept, without fear or molestation, in our forest
homes. In these homes our fathers were -happy. But
the avaricious disposition of the white man envied
us our happiness, and sought our destruction. We
have been driven from river to river and from land
to land, and to^ay you have followed us into^ this
wild forest with your weapons of death, one of which
has made me what you now see me; but I am fast
sinking away — my sun is nearly set — ^you will return
to your homes — to your friends and relations, I shall
return to the earth from whence I came. One word
with you before I leave.

"On the Black Fork of Mohican lived the noted
Captain Pipe, once my^ particular friend. He has a
beautiful daughter — I * loved her ; she refused my
hand — I managed to steal her from her father —
again I proffered her my hand — but she scornfully
refused it — I threatened lier with violence, but she
defied all my threats and called upon the curses of
heaven to rest upon me— that prayer was like a poi-
sonous shaft sunken into my heart, and for a moment

PIONEER LIFE. 245

I trembled under her solemn denunciation and in-
dignant frown. Finding I could not gain her con-
sent to wed me, I left her presence, hoping to con-
quer her at another period. On returning I found
her gone; this enraged me, and reckless of conse-
quence I threw myself into battle, determined to glut
my- vengeance on the white race, Jrom whom her
father and herself had sought protection.

"It may be, you may chance to see her or her
fathers-nay, I would say, you would confer upon
your dying enemy one favor, (though undeserving
of it,) by sending to him who is now in Cleveland,
if yet living, my dying request for him and his in-
sulted daughter to pardon me. This act alone is all
that now troubles me. In fighting you and your race
I have done my duty, but in tearing the young lady
from the protection of her aged father to whom she
is bound by the closest ties of affection, I have out-
raged the principles of a gentleman."

Philip was much moved at this confession of Mon-
tour, for 'twas he who spoke, and taking him by his
hand, besmeared with blood, he raised him off the
ground, in order that he might gather some leaves
under his body and head. Then addressing him in
the language of tenderness, he said :

"Sir, you shall die with knowledge of being par-
doned. I am acquainted with Captain Pipe and his
daughter. My name is Seymour, and my residence
formerly was on the Black Fork, near Greentbwn,
where my father's family were all murdered, save
myself by your brethren — like you I vowed revenge
^-have sought and obtained it, and *have the satis-
faction of knowing that their murderers met their
just reward. Like you, sir, I have thrown myself
into the midst of dangfer and excitement, almost re-
gardless of consequences.

246 PIONEER LIFE.

panions in the undertaking. We have traversed the
forests of Ohio in all directions in search of her ; we
found her in the garrison of Maiden, and she is now
happy under the protection of her father ; and now,
sir, I want you to understand that you are forgiven.
I speak what I know — and if Onishishsha were here
she would lay her hand upon your dying head, and
say to you as her Divine Master said to his mur-
derers, 'Father, forgive him,' for Onishishsha is a
Christian. ' '

" 'Tis enough," said the dying Indian, "my breath
grows short — it comes heavily on — darkness is gath-
ering around me — my eyes are growing dim — -the ob-
jects of earth are receding from my ^ght — I am go-
ing — farew "

"It's all over with him," said Philip, whose eyes
were dimmed with tears ; ' ' poor fellow ! he 's gone to
join the company of his gallant comrades, and his
noble hearted commander, who this day have bid
their forest homes adieu forever."

"Poor fellow!" said Alfred, whose heart during
this melancholy interview, was deeply touched by
the Indian's melting pathos. "Poor fellow!" re-
peated he, "after all I cannot help mourning his un-
timely fate — what a noble looking young warrior—
so much unlike his brethren — his language, how
beautiful, and his enunciation, even under the pangs
of death, how soft and clear. But his days on earth
are hunibered, and his spirit has gone to seek its
rest."

"Beyond the cloiid capped heavens
In verdant groves, or winding vales.
Or grassy plain — the red man's
Happy hunting ground."

' ' Well, well, ' ' said Billy, whq^ during this sorrow-
ful scene, had sat as a silent spectator, and in whose
bosom also, the fires of compassion had been kindled
— ' ' I cannot but feel thorry too ; after all I think you
did right in thpeaking kindly to this Inthun."

PIONEEE LIFE. 247

"Yes, Billy," said Alfred, "we must always re-
inember the language of our great commander, Har-
rison, ' ' that the revenge of a soldier cannot be grati-
fied on a fallen enemy. Acts 6i kindness under such
circumstances is the noblest revenge, as they leave
no unpleasant feelings behind them."

Thus ended the conversation, 3,nd .the young
heroes again joined the soldiers in the camp where
the officers were making preparations to bury the
dead.

The day after the battle the American troops
took possession of the Moravian towns, where they
found large quantities of such provisions as they
stood in need of.

Among the trophies of this battle were six brass
field pieces, surrendered by Hull, on two of which
was the motto : ' ' Surrendered by Burgoyne lat Sara-
toga.'^ -

The villages were found entirely desolated, and so
panic struck were some of the squaws that they
threw their children into the river, to prevent them
from being butchered by the Americans. For the
reason that the inhabitants of these towns had been
most active in committing depredations upon the
frontier settlements, the soldiers reduced them to
ashes before leaving them.

This brilliant victory, in which Tecumseh was
slain, put a check upon the influence of the British
over the Indians, and shortly after Harrison's re-
turn to Detroit, the Ottawas, Chippewas, Pottawoto-
mies, Miamis and Kickapoos proffered their services
to the United States, offering thejr women and chil-
dren as hostages.

A few days after this battle, Philip and his com-
panions proceeded down the River Raisin, on their
way to the cavern of Captain Pipe, where he safely
arrived, without much difficulty, just as the shades
of evening were gathering over the forest.

CHAPTER XXXXII.

MEETING WITH JOHNNY APPLESEED.

"They meet again where rolls the flood
Of waters down Sandusky's shore.''

Immediately after the bloody battle of the Thames,
our heroes returned to the cave of Captain Pipe,
where they were joyfully received by the old Indian
and his daughter.

The old man manifested much joy on hearing of
the brilliant victories of the American army, and ex-
pressed it as his, opinion that in the fall of the no-
torious Tecumseh, fell the hopes and expectations of
the British arms in the West. And such was really
the fact.'

On his return from the battle of the Thames, Gen-
eral Harrison was met at Detroit by a delega,tion of
Indians, consisting of Ottawas, Chippewas, Potta-
watamies, Miamies and Kickapoos, begging for a
suspension of hostilities. They agreed to take up
the same tomahawk with the Americans and strike
all who were or might be enemies of the United
States, and in order to prove their sincerity they
offered their women and children as hostages.

From this period till the. final close of the war,
^hose Indians faithfully supported the American
cause, with as mudi ardor and zeal as they had pre-
viously opposed it.

The consternation which had spread over the west
at the commencement of the war, was now gradu-
ally subsiding. Indian depradations were less fre-
quent, and the terror-stricken inhabitants were seen

piONEEB Life. ' 249

leaving the Forts and Block Houses, in order to re-
commence their fanning operations.

But while a partial peace was smiling over the
North- West, the demon of war was rolling his char-
iot of death over other parts of the country,, particu-
larly along the Lake and Seacoast.

Our heroes, after their return from the Thames,,
had made arrangements for joining the forces under
Gen. Scott, but finding that the army had increased'
and th9.t there was no lack of soldiers, they changed
their opinion, and concluded to spend the-winter with
the Captain and his daughter.

The cave of Captain Pipe, as already noticed, was
situated in a most delightful hunting country. It
was known to but few, and those hardly ever visited
it, and consequently it was well calculate^ as a safe
retreat from marauding bands of Indians. It was
therefore agreed upon that this cave should be their
headquarters during the winter, should they spend
it in the exciting pleasures of the chase.

Accordingly, in a few days after their return from
the war, they had made every arrangement neces-
sary *f or the winter's hunting excursion.

It was a beautiful morning towards the close of
October, when, our young heroes left the cave - of
Capt. Pipe for their first tour among the forest
jungles.

On the third evening after starting they encamped
on the banks of a beautiful clear running stream,,
one of the principal tributaries of the Sandusky..
The situation of the camp was a most beautiful one„
All around were pictured in living characters ,the
most enchanting loveliness. Having constructed
themselves a rude shelter, they kindled a- fire, and
after partaking of some food, entered into conversa-
tion, the particulars of which it is not necessary here
to relate.

"250 PIONEEK LIFE. V

During tliis conversation, our heroes were alarmed
by the sudden appearance of a solitary singularly
•clad animal, having the conformation of a man, who
Tinnoticed made his way into their camp. The sur-
prise was sudden and unlooked for, and the creature
was most phantastically dressed. He was in his
iDare feet, which were black with mud — ^his pedal ex-
tremities were at least eighteen inches too long for
his breeches — around his body hung a loose garment,^
made out of a coffee sack, having a hole for his head,
and one foe each arm. Dangling around his shoul-
ders was the tail of a fox, whose skin formed a cov-
■ering for his head. Such was the appearance of this
singular human creature. On seeing him, Billy
sprang behind a tree, exclaiming:

' ' Thod blasht hith ugly picturth, if thith haint the
thevil himthelf — get out of hith road or by gingth
you'll thmell thulpur fore two thencondth."

But the next moment the mystery was solved, and
"before them stood the eccentric and good natured
Johnny Appleseed.

"Mr. Chapman!" exclaimed the astonished Philip,
^'in the name of Heaven, Mr. Chapman, how came
you here?"

But before Johnny could answer Philip, Bunty
Billy had sprung from behind the tree, and clasping
Johnny by the hand, exclaimed : -

"ItheJjadly beat, Mr. Thapman, contharn yer. I
w^ath thure yer wath the devile himself. Your thome- '
what more thanged in yer lookth than uthual." At
this moment Alfred came up to Philip, whereupon he
introduced Johnny to his friend, who had stood gaz-
ing in mute astonishment upon this odd specimen of
liuman nature.

After the joy and excitement produced by the ap-
pearance of Johnny had subsided, the friends gath-
ered around the camp fire, when Johnny related the

PIONEER LIFE.

251

history of his adventures ;since he had left his friends
on the Black Fork.

"Gentlemen," said Johnny, in commencing the
narration of history, "I am thankful to the Great
Giver of ever good and perfect gift, that we have
been spared to see each other's faces once more.
But since we last met together, our lives have been
crowded with sorrow and disappointment. We have
been made to drink of the bitter cup of affliction.
You, Mr. Seymour, have undergone one of the most
severe trials that can come within the experience of
human life. In one short hour you were made a
homeless and friendless stranger. On hearing of
the outrage on Black Fork I repaired thither imme-
diately. I was in Mt. Vernon at the time the murder
of your friends occurred. The news of this trans-
action produced a high state of excitement anaong
the whites. Spies were sent out in all. directions to
watch the movements of the savages."

"On reaching the settlement, I found every cabin
tenahtless, and on calling at the Block House at
Beam's Mill, . I found that most of the families had
taken refuge there. I made inquiry concerning you
and Billy, but no one could give me any satisfactory
account of you after the burial of your friends; no
, one had seen you since. I then left the Bl6ek House
and repaired to the scene of the murder, with feel-
ings of most bitter anguish; and a's I gazed upon
your father's cabin, (where but a few weeks ago
all was peace and happiness) and saw the work of
the destroyer, I felt more deeply than ever the sol-
emn truth that all that's mortal must decay. Ah,
sir, to me that cabin looked desolate and dreary —
its walls were silent as the grave ; and, with the ex-
ception of yourself, its once happy inmates were
now resting in peace under the green sod that lines
the banks of the rippling stream, along which their
'mangled remains were deposited. Ah! sirs, as I

252 PIONEBK LIFE.

gazed upon that sacred spot, I remembered that the
spirit of at least one of the silent sleepers there was
feasting upon the rich manna of heaven — and
though I wept over the grave of my young disciple,
yet I rejoiced to know that her sufferings were for-
ever past, and that she Ivould be a star in my crown
of glory in the spirit land,

"After spending a few hours here, I directed my
way to Mansfield, and on arriving there I found the
inhabitants in a high state of excitement concerning
the outrage on Black Fork. Orders were given to
shoot every straggling Indian found in the woods.
I remained a few days in the Black House at Mans-
field and then returned to Mt. Vernon, where I spent
the winter. On the return of Spring I visited my
nurseries which lay scattered along the different tri-
butaries of the Mohican. Having bestowed upon
them the requisite attention, t resolved. to open uji,
or extend niy Sphere of usefulness., Afcordingly I
found my way to this region of Ohio, where I have
been for several months past planting nurseries. As
I l^y in camp a few hundred y^rdg np this str-eam I
saw the light of your camp-fire;, and wishing to
know who you were, I came down the stream, under
cover of darkness, and recognizing your voice, I en-
tered your camp, taking you by surprise."

"Yes^and by hokey," said Philip, "the surprise
was most complete.".

"Well," said Johnny, "have you ever, heard any-
thing of our friend, Captain Pipe?"

" Heard from him ? " e j aculated Philip. ' ' Certain-~
ly — I left his residence but a few days ago !"

"Ah! indeed," said Johnny, "then he is in Cleve-
land yet."

"No, Mr. Chapman, not there. Let ipe think — I
believe you have not heard of the deep affliction
through which the old man was called to pass after
his arrival in Cleveland."

PIONEEK LIFE. . 253

"No, sir," replied Johnny; '-has any misfortune
befallen him?"

"Yes, Mr. Chapman, replied Philip, and then re-
lated to him the particulars of Lilly's abduction, and
her rescue from the garrison at Ft. Maiden.

"Poor child!" said Johnny. "I will see her im-
mediatelj^. I will visit her once more, and ask the
protection of the Great Spirit to be thrown around
her,"

"Such a visit," replied Philip, "would indeed be
most cheering to both the Captain and Lilly. They
often speak of you, and wonder where you are, and
what you are doing. They had almost come to the
conclusion that you had been murdered by some of
ihe savages."

"Well," said Johnny, "we will lay down and take
our rest, and in the morning we will return to the
cg,VG ; and thus ended the conversation for the pres-
ent, and the little company lay down to sleep.

Morning came, but before the golden sun had. lit
up the dark forest, the company were on their way
to the cavern, which they safely reached the next day
about nightfall.

On entering it, the first object that met his gaze
was his young disciple, Lilly. Philip and his com-
panions had remained outside, until Johnny had sur-
prised the Captain and his daughter, after which,
and just in time to witness the manifestatior^s of joy,
they also entered.

' 'Mr. Chapman ! ' ' exclaimed the young maiden.'

"God bless the dear child," replied Johnny, at the
same time grasping her delicate hand in his. "God
bless the dear child," repeated he, with tears in his
eyes ; and for a moment he stood gazing reverently
upon the lovely young creature.

n.d-ni Pino -arhn vtras. r^plinino' iinnn bia nallflt nf"

254 . PIONEER LIFE.

tion the name of Mr. Chapman, sprang to his feet
and the next moment stood before his friend.

"Mr. Chapman," exclaimed the Chieftain, "you
are welcome here."

"Captain," replied Johnny, "we meet at this time
under singular circumstances. But the ways of
Providence are truly wonderful, and in ^many in-
stances, incomprehensible to us short sighted crea-
tures. Since we last met, you indeed have met with
much sorrow ; but I am rejoiced to know that you are
now comforted."

CHAPTEE XXXXIII.

OAPT. PIPE'S INTERVIEW WITH JOHNNY APPLESE ED —

DISCLOSUEES EESPECTING LILLY'S ORIGIN — ITS

EFFECTS UPON THE MIND OP ALFRED.

But it is not necessary to tax the reader's patience-
with a recital of the conversation which passed be-
tween the members of that happy circle on that inter-
esting occasion. Suffice it to say, that their conver-
sation related principally to the happy scenes of
other days.

On the next morning Capt. Pipe and Johnny re-^
tired some distance from the cave, and seating them-
selves upon the trunk of a fallen tree, commenced a
low yet earnest conversation. ' ' Mr. Chapman, ' ' saicf
the Captain, "you are aware, I suppose, that Lilly
and Mr. Seymour have formed an attachment for
each other ; and I suppose from what Lilly has said'
to me, will be married in a few days. Well, I have-
taken this occasion to hold a private interview with
you respecting the origin .of her, whoni most people
suppose to be my real daughter. You and Mr. Sey-
mour have long since been aware that she is not my
real daughter. Sir," continued the Chieftain, "Lilly
is the real sister of the companion of Mr. Seymour,
young Bradley."

"Impossible!" exclaimed JohAny in much aston-
ishment. "Impossible," continued he, looking full
into the Captain's face, unable to give credence to-
his words. "By no means," replied the Captain, "it
is even so ; Lilly Pipe is none' other than Anne Brad-
lev, the sister of Alfred Bradlev now in the cavern. ' *"

256 ' PIONEER LIFE.

for the insult offered you in discrediting your word,
tut you really astonish me; yet, in this I learn an-
other lesson of God's goodness to his dear creatures
— ^how strange are the ways of Providence. At this
moment Alfred is talking to her, whom he supposes
io be now in the Spirit world. God in His goodness
has brought them together, yet they know it not, and
so saying Johnny relapsed into silenpe, overwhelmed
by his feelings; and had the reader been standing
by on this occasion, he would have seen tears of joy
Tolling down the sunburnt and weather-beaten cheeks
•of that tender-hearted child of nature. '

*'Mr. Chapman," replied the Chieftain, "you
weep, but yaur tears are those of joy. Listen and I
•will tell you now : ^

"The next year after the treaty at Greenville
(1796,) a party of whites landed at the mouth of
•Conneaut Creek about the middle of Summer, a love-
lier place was nowhere to be found. After remain-
ing here for a while they left. A few families, how-
-ever, remained over winter there; they did not be-
long to the party which first landed, but emigrated
here in. the fall. One 'of these was the family of Mr.
Bradley.

"At this time Black Hoof and myself were on a
visit in this region, and op passing by this locality
found it settled with several white fanjilies. They
appeared cheerful and happy, though in destitute
circumstances. We remained with them ovex night.
The next morning we started home. On entering the
-woods about a half mile from the cabins we came
upon two white children who had, as usuai, wan-
dered some distance up the stream to play. They
had on this occasion, however, wandered farther
away from their cabins than was usual — and had be-
come bewildered. We "rode up to them, and found
that they were lost ; we asked them if they wanted to
go home ; the elder replied yes. I then took up the

PIONEEK LIFE. ' ' 257

smaller one on my horse while Black Hoof took the
elder. Poor creatures, they sobbed and cried fit to
break their little hearts; we pitied them, and were
about turning back to take them to their homes, when
Black Hoof urged that we should carry them home
with us and adopt them in our families. The sug-
gestion was agreed to, and we departed with our
prisoners ; and in due time arrived at our villages —
Black Hoof adopted his into his family, and I named
mine Onishishsha and adopted her into my family.
She was afterwards called Lilly as you have heard.
Lilly at the time of her capture was just beginning
to talk ,from which circumstances I judged she was
about three Summers old — her companion was some
older, as was apparent from her size and speech.

' ' After a few weeks Lilly became reconciled to her
lot, and grew cheerful and merry. She was hand-
some, and I loved her because she was so playful and
kind. As she grew older she became more attractive,
and learned to love me with the fondness of a child.
I gave her all the instruction in my power, as you
have been informed.

' ' And now, I deem it my duty to give her up into
the care of her lover and brother, and atone in some
measure for the wrong which I have done her rela-
tions."

Here the old man buried his face in his hands and
remained silent for a moment. It was evident his
feelings had overcome him. Johnny had sat silent
and pensive, tears had coursed their way down his
,cheeks; but commanding his feelings, he thus ad-
dressed the qld Indian :

"Captain Pipe," you seem deeply affected in re-
counting the past ; but these scenes are over, and we
live in the present. You did wrong in taking the
child from its home, but you have done right in

258 ^ PIONEER LIFE.

always found you ready to supply my wants, besides
you always manifested a strong desire that I should
teach Lilly the manners and customs of \he whites,
and also the English language ; I have done so, and
am fully rewarded to find that her young heart is
under the influence of virtuous principles.

' ' Thank God; though Lilly was torn from her home
in her infantile days, and forced to the perils and
privations of a life in the woods ; yet her future is
open and bright in her vision. She imagines herself
homeless and friendless, save her generous protect-
ors. But in a moment when she least expects it, an
unlooked for flood of joy and happiness will be hers,
and she in fullness of her young heart, will take him
by the hand and say welcome dearest brother, wel-
come to the lone heart of your long lost sister.

"Oh! what a happy, happy meeting' it will be;
God will repay her double for all she has suffered, ' '
and so saying Johnny wiped the tears from his eyes,
while the Captain, taking hold of his hand, pressed
it warmly, exclaiming: "A good man, a man of God,
I love you more than ever; and now in conclusion
permit me to say to you that it is my last request of
you, to make this matter known to Mr. Seymour,
Alfred and Lilly, when you return to the cave.

"I shall never inhabit that cave again. In it I
have spent many sad and gloomy moments, as well
as happy hours. But my days on earth are short,
and I shall soon follow my sires to the Red Man's
happy hunting grounds. Tell Lilly her Captor and
protector, Capt. Pipe, has vouchsafed the blessings
of the Great Spirit upon her, that in the company
of her white friends and relations she will be happy.
Tell her I go to join my kindred, and lay my bones
among those of my red brethren. Tell Mr. Seymour
that I consign into his care my much loved Lilly, the
jewel of my heart and the idol of my old age — tell
him that I would have him love* and protect her

PIONEEK LIFE. . 259

tell him to remember the admonitiofl I gave him at
our last interview — ^he will understand you.

"Give my compliments to Mr. Bradley — beg him
to forgive Poor Old Captain Pipe for the wrong
which I have done his family — tell him I would not
see him after making known the facts respecting
Lilly's origin. I am noW done and "

"But," enquired Johnny, "had you not better see
them all before you leave?"

"As you think best," replied the Captain, and the
two companions started for the cave, which after
bidding the company a "good bye," he left never to
return again. The Captain's departure had been
expected by Philip and Lilly, as he had previously
spoken to them on this point; and, although they
could not comprehend his reasons for thus leaving
them, yet they had no idea that his departure was a
final one. On leaving them Philip noticed that as
he shook hands with Alfred he seemed somewhat
confused, and on taking the hand of Lilly his eyes
were suffused with tears.

The company stood gazing upon the receding form
of the old man, until lost to sight in the deep forest,
then returning they entered the cavern in order to
make arrangements for the future.

"I cannot account for the old man's singular cpn-
duct, in thus leaving us so abruptly," said Alfred,
after the company had seated themselves in the
cavern.

"He has gone out upon some important mission,"
responded Philip.

"It is my opinion," replied Lilly, "that he will
not return here any more — though I am unable to
divine the cause for his departure."

"Children!" said Johnny, and all eyes were
turned upon him. "Children," repeated he, "I can

ovnlain if nil " ^^Thprftiinnn .TnlrnTiv crava his r»nm-

260 PIONEEE LIFE.

tween him and Captain Pipe while in the woods to-
gether, but said nothing concerning the abduction of
Lilly and her playmate.

On hearing that the Captain, had left them for-
ever, Lilly burst into a flood of tears, and for some
moments wept in silence ; and in truth, she was not
alone, for there were othef hearts who loved him
also. " He 's gone, ' ' sobbed Lilly, ' ' and left me alone
— ^here in the dreary wilderness — far from friends^
and "

"Say not so, dearest Lilly," interrupted Philip;
"if the Captain has left you, the arm of Philip Sey-
mour shall be your defense, and his affections shall
be your future home. Nay, nay, thou'rt not for-
saken, dearest Lilly ; dry up those tears, and trust in
the God of thy fathers, and the storms of life shall
pass harmlessly by you. ' '

Billy, who had been looking on, a, silent spectator,
though not an unfeeling one, after wiping the tears
from his eyes, thus addressed the young woman:

"Thay, Mithuth Lilly, don't frit; nothing in the
thape of men or devilth thall lay a finger upon your
perthon while Bunty Billy can draw a bead or pull,
atriggar, and I can assure you, upon tethtimony
of Mr. Themour, that I am thome at a long thot, and'
more at a thot not tho long, and most in a hand to
hand struggle."

Although Lilly's feelings were pensive, and her
heart deeply smitten with sorrow at parting with,
him whom she had been taught to call father, yet
she could not help smiling, though tears were stand-
ing in her eyes, at the earnestness and assurance
with which Billy had addressed her.

After Billy had spoken the whole company as-
sumed a more composed and cheerful aspect. Johnny
Appleseed now concluded to communicate to the
company the disclosures of the Captain.

"Children," said he, "I want your attention; I

PIONEER LIFE. - 261

have news for yon — news, which perhaps, will aston-
ish yon, and which you will scarcely credit, but which
though almost incredible is nevertheless true. Mr.
Bradley, Miss Pipe is your sis "

But before he could finish his sentence young-
Bradley uttered an exclamation of ' ' Merciful Heav-
ens" and fell to the earth insensible ; Lilly on seeing
him fall, also gave vent to piercing shrieks,, and for
a moment stood gazing upon the lifeless form of
young Bradley.

' ' Bfe 's dead, ' ' sobbed the young woman. ' ' No, no,
replied Philip, "he will recover — it is only a swoon,
a sudden rush of blood to the head.

Restoratives were applied, and the young man
recovered in a few moments. After becoming con-
scious, he gazed aronnd for a moment, and seeing
Lilly a few feet from him weeping, he sprang to-
wards here, and clasping her to his bosom, exclaim-
ed: "My dearest, dearest sister;" his utterance was
obstructed, and the brother and sister sobbed aloud
—moments passed away, yet the fond brother and
sister clung to each other as though chained by" the
spell of some enchanter.

Philip and Billy stood looking on evidently be-
wildered, and almost doubting the reality of the
scene around them.

At length the young man spoke once more. "It
is Anne — it is Anne," repeated he. "Oh, Anne, web
do I remember you in your infant days, but you can-
not remember me. How much you look like our
mother — dear mother — now in heaven — shining amid
the saints of light, and I have no doubt at this mo-
ment gazing iipon this strange meeting of brother
and sister after an absence of long years. Oh, Anne,
you are the very picture of that dear Saint. 1
thought so when I first saw you, and now I know it.
Oh ! God, how thankful ought I to be for such hap-
piness — long years have passed away since I beheld

262 PIONEEK LIFE.

you last, then but an infant, the pride of our dear
father and the idol of your lone brother — now you
have grown to womanhood, and we meet in the primo
of life."

During this brief but solemn and heartfelt offer-
ing of gratitude, to the God of Mercy, Philip and his
companion were standing by, gazing upon the affect
ing scene, deeply moved, weeping and inexpressibly
happy in knowing that Alfred had found his long lost
sister. ,

But to describe minutely this affecting scene is
more than we can do; language can convey but a
meager description of that happy meeting. At length
everything became more tranquil, and Johnny Apple-
seed related the full particulars of Lilly's history tm
obtained from the Captain, stating that for this rea-
son he would not see Mr. Bradley. But Alfred would
have forgiven him, and Lilly would have plead his
cause, for she loved him, and would «ver love him.

CHAPTER XXXXIV.

LILLY'S VISIT TO HEE CABIN— PHILIP'S EEFLECTIONS
' - AT HIS CABIN— THEIR MARRIAGE, ETC.

At her own native cottage
The wild woods along,
'Twas here she had rambled
To hear the bird's song."

After Mr. Chapman had revealed the disclosures
of Captain Pipe respecting Lilly's origin, and bein*?
assured that the old Chieftain would never again
return, Philip called to mind his conversation to him
respecting a certain locality, not far from the cave,
which he wished him to remember. On mentionin;jr
this to Johnny, he informed Philip that the Captain
had shown him the identical spot.

Accordingly the company repaired to the place,
and after excavating the box, found it to contain to-
gether with a brief history of Lilly, a considerable
amount of gold and silver coin, ornaments, etc,
which he ordered to be delivered up to Lilly after his
exit.

The reader may well suppose that our heroes
were now no little astonished on beholding this treas-
ure. '

"Lilly," exclaimed Billy, "it ith yourth— all
y-ourth, and hang me for a tory if you hain't enough
to buy half a dosthen of thuch felloth ath Philip."

"No, no," repliied Lilly, much amusecj at Billy's
expression. "It is not all mine — see here, there
(handing him several gold- coins and a. couple of or-
naments,) are yours."

"Thank you — thank you," said Billy, and for your

264 ' ■ PIONEER LIFE.

dithtinguithed kindneth, permit me to with you and
Philip much happineth when the time cometh round
to do tho."

"Ah! Billy," replied Philip,, "your dreaming
again. ' '

"What! about thnaketh," replied Billy.

' ' Confound you and the snakes, ' ' cried Philip, ' ' I
expect you'll haunt me through all eternity with,
the remembrance- of those days of snake memory."

On returning to the cave, Lilly divided the valu-
ables equally among her companions, but Johnny
refused taking any. Arrangements were next dis-
cussed for paying one more visit to the homesteads
upon the Black Pork. Accordingly horses were pro-
cured and in a few days everything was gotten in
readiness for starting.

It was towards the middle of October, one beauti-
ful morning, when our heroes left the cave for the
Black Pork. All were mounted upon horses, fiery
and full of animation. Philip was appointed the
leader or Captain. Before leaving the cave, the par-
ty bowed respectfully, to that subterranean refuge,
and left in silence. It had been the home of one of
the noblest spirits that roamed this forest, and it
had been the refuge of one of the rarest flowers of
the wilderness.

It is needless to describe the incidents of their
journey to the Black Fork. Of course it was at-
tended with that joy and hilarity peculiar to all such
excursions.

Towards the close of the second day after leaving
the cave, the company found themselves at the door
of what once was the domicil of Capt. Pipe, and the
home of the affectionate and tender hearted Lilly.
There had she spent the days of her childhood and
the sight of her old homestead brought up in her
mind the early associations of life. As the shades
of night were setting in upon the forest it was

PIOJfEEE LIFE. 265

agreed that the company should spend the evening
in the cabin ; accordingly the horses were made fast
within an enclosure, and supplied with grass, of
which there was an abundance around the house, and
after preparing themselves with some refreshments,
the little company seated themselves around the
blazing fire and entered into a conversation upon
the scenes of the past: Each member of that inter-
esting group had his own story to tell, but none was
so touching as Lilly's.

She was now once more under the roof of her once_
happy cottage home, on the banks of her loved and
romantic Black Fork.

. The poet, when seeking a theme for his loftiest
verse, will turn with affection and pride to his .early
home, where first he felt thp divine inspirations of
poetic fire, where first he roamed the wild wood, or
listened to the warbler's note, gleaning something
around which he might weave with God-given power
his glowing fancies.

It matters not if the home be lowly, love and
poetry will find sweet music in the babbling rivulet
— affections within the cottage wall — every breeze
that trembles, every flower that lifts its chalice to
the sun, and every bird that warbles its gladsome
lay, brings to us reminiscences of early home. The
memories of home will find' a calm delight in the
hour of sun set, when the King of day is slowly
sinking behind the western hills, and pouring his
unclouded bla^e of light on all surrounding objects
— Ah, yes,- and when the weary exile is riding far
over the world of, waters, along some distant shore,
the beams of the sinking sun, resting upon the
hushed deep, or gliding the green billows and send-
ing back to the eye an increased radiance, will bring
to inind the brightness and cherished glories of the
home of his youth.

266 . PIONEEK LIFE.

mind wherever we may roam, and when after a
lapse of years we revisit the sacred spot, what deep
emotions fill our minds. Who that has visited the
home of his youth has not felt that time and dis-
tance has lent enchantment to the spot.

Such were the reflections that passed through the
mind of Lilly, as she sat gazing upon the vacant
wall of that forefst cot, once the home of her youth.

There, and within this rude enclosure, had she
often sat upon the knee, and by the side of him,
.whom she called father, and listened to his pimple
tales of Indian life — here, too, she had often mingled
in the company of her dark-eyed forest companions,,
had rambled with them along the grassy flower^
decked banks of the' rippling stream — here, and
under the eool shade of the forest, she had often
and often listehed to the music of the feathered
songsters ; here, and upon this grassy lawn, she had
time, and time again, gazed upon the sinking sun,
until his last goldeai rays rose high along the dis-
tant hills, and left the shades of night to follow in
their wake. There, too, had she sat in other days,
looking up in the dark dome of heaven, and watch-
ing as she supposed the Great Spirit lighting up the
heavens, with his celestial fires, manifested in the
appearance, one after another, of the brilliant stars.

Lilly was a child of nature, which in all its depths
was replete with music to her soul. She saw a beau-
ty and heard a music in the stillness of the twilight
hour, and in the voice of the balmy breeze, as it '
sighs amid the stirring leaves of the starlit grove,
or reposing upon the unruffled bosom of the placid
waters. She had heard and realized that there was
music in the glad songsters of the grove ; and felt
that there was the voice of the Great Spirit in the
mutterings of the pealing thunder above — or on
earth — in-the outspread skies and in the invisible air
— in the solitary dell, or upon the gentle hilltop —

PIONEER LIFE. 267

in the ever changing glories of the footstool of the
Almighty, or among the ever burning celestial lights,
which gem the high firmament, and light the angels
to their evening orisins, in all, through all, and over
all, as though from ten thousand times ten thousand
harps, she heard the swetest melody, pouring from
■earth, air and the heavens ; all conspiring to make
her forest home the ^bode of happiness. In short,
may we not add that in those palmy days this music"
was the atmosphere of heaven to her innocent spirit,
and that she looked upon the green crested earth
and the star spangled heavens as the lyre of the
Oreat Spirit, whose strings were touched by him
alone, sending out strains of Divinest melody.

Thus sat Lilly for some moments, in a kind of
"dreamy listlessness, while thoughts of other days
were passing through her, mind. She looked around
for her father, but he was not there, his voice was
not heard among the voices there, flow changed;
even the old cabin seenied to mourn his absence.
Months and years had passed since her first recol-
lections of this sacred cot, and now for aught she
knew, she had taken refuge in it for the last time.
Tears filled her eyes, and rising from her seat she
made her way to the grove, a few steps in the rear
of the cabin, where in other days she had often sat
m.using upo^ the beauties of the glowing landscape,
around. Thie sun was just hiding his golden face
behind the tree tops, and his glowing beams came
streaming through the forest trees in long lines of
-golden light.

The sight of a setting sun is glorious at all times,
but to Lilly, on this occasion, it was a melancholy
■sight. How often in other days had she beheld that
same sun setting in cloudless glory behind the sama
forfest trees, had heard the same hum of nocturnal
insect choristers, chiming their evening lays to Luna,
the bright queen of the stilly night, and with what

268 PIONEER LIFE.

joyous emotions, and kind good feelings, had she
sat in this same shady bower conversing with her
red faced companions of coming life and future
prospects.

There flowed the same beautiful stream, here stood-
the same forest, now clothing in garments of mourn-
ing, as the chilling frosts of autumn, cold winter's
precursor, were beating heavily upon it, here stood
the same cottage around which were growing the
same plants and wild flowers, which, in other days,
she had woven into bouquets for some loved one.

Musing, upon the past, she thus sat for some time,
until aroused by the voice of Alfred calling her to
the, cabin.

Returning to the cabin; she found the company
preparing to retire to rest.

Lilly lay down upon her pallet of skins, but could
not close her eyes in sleep. Visions of the past
haunted her mind. Ljong, long days had passed;
away since last she had closed her eyes in sleep in
this lone cottage ; her she was once more, under the
same roof which had sheltered her in her infancy
from many a rude tempestuous wintry storm, but
the heairt in whose affections she had lived for years
was not with her ; it was the first night she had ever
spent in that cabin without him; and this thought,
seemed to rend her young heart asunder. She wept
bitterly, and in weeping found relief. Hours thus
passed until overcome, she fell asleep, from which
she did not awaken until aroused by the voice of her
brother calling her to the morning meal.

Lilly arose, more cheerful than when she lay down,
on the preceding evening, and after saluting her
companions, begged them to excuse her drowsiness.
She expressed herself much refreshed, and com-
menced preparations for the day's journey.

Towards the middle of the day, the party (which
had left the cabin ^bout 9 o'clock that morning,)

PIONEER LIFE. 269

arrived in front of the door of the Seymour cabin.
Philip's mind was deeply affected at once more gaz-
ing upon his former home, and the scenes of the past
were recalled afresh into his memory.

Having secured their horses in the stable, the
whole company entered the cabin. Like the farmer,
its jv^alls were vacant and silent. Once the abode of
joy and happiness, now silent and tenantless. A
deep solemnity rested upon the minds of that little
company, and for some moments not a word was
spoken. At length, Philip, who had been gazing
npon the naked walls for some moments, in deep and
solemn reflection, broke the silence.

"Friends," said he, and his bosom heaved with
deep emotion, "I stand once more upon this blood-
stained floor. I look around me, but I see not those
with whom I associated in early life. This rude
domicile once contained two as cheerful and happy
hearts as ever sent the red current of life through
the veins of living mortals; but, alas, one of these
is no more. Under yonder shady tree, on the banks
of that murmuring stream, repose her last remai'ns
— the other now mourns her sad and untimely fate. ' '

"Ah!" replied Johnny, "such is human life. Like
the flower, it fades and dies. AH that's mortal must
decay — ^nothing is real here, all is fitful, fleeting,
changing, and passing away. Dangers stand thick
around us, and sometimes when least expected, mor-
tals are cut down in a moment. But here (taking
a Testament from his bosom), here is the hope of
our Salvation and immortality. In this blessed vol-
ume we are told the righteous shall live forever —
then, Mr. Seymour, why mourn her exit from earth?
She lives in a holier and happier clime. I have seen
the righteous die ; but I have never seen an end to
the mercy of "the Redeemer — it fades not, neither
does it die. 'Tis true we are under the influence of

270 ' PIONEER LIFE.

natural affection, and this often- times leads us to>
mourn when we should rejoice." ,

" 'Tis all true, Mr. Chapman," replied Philip. "I
am aware that we must all soon pass into another
state of existence; yet fond recollection lingers
around the sacred spot where love reposes. To those
who never knew a sister's love, and have never wept
over a sister's grave, such feelings as I now possess,
they have never realized. True the Poet has said :

When memory fondly lingers near

The silent grave where love reposes
And sheds with burning eye the tear
; On the pale wreath of withered roses,

Some Seraph foVm in brightness elad

Comes , to dispell the gloom of sorrow,
Bids the lone mourners heart be" glad,

And whispers ' ' She will wake tomorrow. ' '

' ' Yes, ' ' replied Johnny,, although I ,am not much
inclined to favor poetical quotations in religious af-
fairs, yet I must acknowledge this a true specimen
of poetic truth — 'She will wake tomorrow' — cheer-
ing thought. ' '

There the conversation ended, and the whole com-
pany bent their steps to the graves of their parents
and sister of Philip, and also that of the gallant
Ruffner.

' ' There, ' ' said Philip, pointing to the graves of his
sires, "lay the remains of my unfortunate parents."

"Peace to their ashes, and rest to their souls,"'
responded Johnny.

"And here," said Philip, "lie the remains qf poor
Kate" — and bending over her grave tears fell fast
from his eyes upon the cold sod that covered her
from his sight. By his side stood the beautiful Lilly,
hanging- upon the arm of her brother, mingling their
tears with those of Philip.

"And there," said Philip, pointing to the remain-
ing grave, ' ' lies the mangled body of the heroic Ruff-

PIONEEB LIFE. 271

ner, who fell cut to pieces defending the bodies of
those alongside of whom he now sleeps."

Billy, on seeing the grave of his master, threw his
body down upon it, and for a moment wept in si-
lence — he loved him, for Euffner had been more like
a father to him than a master.

"Ah," said Billy, while tears fell fast from his
eyes, "thith ith my mathter'th latht rethting place.
I almoth with I wath lying by hith thide," and so
saying he sobbed aloud. Billy had passed through
dangers by night and by day, and by land and by
water — he had seen death strew the earth around
him, but never before was he so deeply moved.

"Come, come, Billy," said Alfred, "dry up those
tears. Your master sleeps in peace — he has fought
his last battle, in defence of the helpless and inno-
cent, and future generations will mark the sacred
spot where the gallant Dutchman fell. A monument
will yet be er-ected to his memory, and future gen-
erations will visit his gr-ave, and read the history of
his untimely fate."

After remaining some time at the graves of his
friends, Philip and his companiojis returned to the
cabin, where they spent the night. It was the last
night that ever that Company spent together on the
Black Fork.

During he remainder of the day, arrangements had
been made for visiting their friends in Pennsylvania.
A pressing invitation was extended to Johnny and
Billy to accompany them. , But they refused, Johnny
alleged that it was his duty to remain in the wilder-
ness until his mission was ended, and Billy expressed
a deep anxiety to accompany Johnny out West, at
least as far as to Wappakonetta village. It was
therefore settled that the next morning Philip and
Alfred and his sister would start for Pennsylvania,

272 PIONEEK LIFE.

As soon as the light of day had broken over the
forest, the company were astir making preparations
for the journey. The hour of separation had come ;
and the scene which followed we cannot describe.
Old and tried friends were now to part — ^part, in all
probability, to meet no more.

"Billy," said Philip, as he grasped him by the
hand, "it is hard to part with you — you, who to Mr.
Bradley and myself, have been the master of our
sports and pleasant hours. In parting with you I
cannot but express a wish that your true and gen-
erous heart never fall a prey to the tjempter's
snare."

"Amen," replied Johnny, who stood listening to
Philip's admonition with eyes sparkling with kind
good feeling. ' ' Amen, ' ' repeated he, ' ' Mr. Sejnnour,
I feel that you speak the words of truth and sober- .
ness." Having shaken hands with all, Billy ad-
vanced to where Lilly was standing, and taking her
by her soft and delicate hand, said in a most manly
and dignified tone of voice :

"Mithuth Lilly, I motht heartly congratulate you
on the accession of a new brother, and with two
thuch brave hearth* ath hith and Philip 'th, you are
thave even in a den of all th^ thnakes in the uni-
verth, and with thith knowledge I can then more
readily withdraw my protective arms from yer "

"Bravo, bravo^," shouted Philip and Alfred with
one voice, while tears fell from their eyes.

"Long live Bunty Billy, the— 'Hero of Wappako-
netta," cried Lilly, her full heart overflowing with
gratitude to the young backwoodsman. But 'ere the
echo of these voices had died away, the parties had
separated, one on their way to the East, the other
to mingle among the wild scenes of the wilderness.

PIONEER LIFE. 273

CONCLUSION.

Years had gassed away since the party above de-
scribed had parted on the banks of the Black Fork.
Each having looked upon, the other for the last time.

Towards the close of a beautiful Summer evening
in the year 1847, a stranger, stricketi with years, and
in tattered garments, made his appearance at the
door of a beautiful little cottage- which stood on the
banks of a small stream which runs through one of
ihe many romantic valleys of the West.

On knocking at the door the stranger was bid to
enter, and being shown a chair sat down, placing his
little budget by his side.

"A very beautiful evening, sir," said the stranger
to the proprietor of the house, a rather good-look-
ing, middle-aged gentleman.

"Yes," replied the host, "nature is always beauti-
ful — but you seem weary, have you traveled far to-
day?"

"About twenty miles, as near as I can judge," re-
plied the stranger.

"A very remarkable walk, sir, for one of your
age," replied the man of the house, "but I suppose
you are used to this exercise. '

' ' Friend, ' ' replied the stranger, ' * J am as you per-
ceive well stricken in years. I have seen full seventy
winters, and will see no more. My mission on earth
is completed, and I shall soon be gathered to the
habitation of my fathers. As you have supposed, I
have been upon my feet all my life, and have been a
sojourner in the wilderness, since called upon my
mission. ' '

"I presume, then," replied the host, "you are a
missionary or Minister of the Gospel."

"Yes, sir/' meekly replied the old man, while his

274 PlbUEEK LIFE.

the Bible, and expect shortly to eat the fruits of my
doings in a better land."

The manner in which the 'old man had spoken
these words was deeply affecting, bringing tears to
the eyes of his hearer, who wishing to know more
of the singular stranger with whom he was convers-
ing, thus addressed him :

' ' Sir, it would give me much pleasure, and I ha\^e
no doubt much interest to know- your history, which
I am satisfied is a most interesting one."

"Then," said the stranger, "I will comply with
your request. I was born far away towards the ris-
ing sun, upon the banks of one of the most romantic
streawis which washes the shores of New England.
In early life I imbibed a fondness for rural scenery,
and often wandered from my home along the banks
of the stream in quest of natural curiosities, flowers
and plants. Nothing gave me more pleasure than
listening to the music of birds and the huiri of insects.
I had thus grown up to boyhood, conversing with the
various objects of nature around me ; I had received
a limited education, I had been taught the common
branches of education. One day while in the deep
forest meditating upon the goodness of God, as ex-
emplified in creation (for I had received a pious edu-
cation) I heard,, as I supposed, a voice immediately
behind me, saying :

" 'Arise, run ye to and fro through the wilder-
ness,^ and bear the words of life to the heathen
thereof.'

"I cast my eyes to where the sound proceeded, but
saw no living being. At first I was somewhat aston-
ished and no little alarmed. But then I recollected
that a similar voice had spoken to the Prophet Sam-
uel, and I concluded that it was the voice of an angel,
commissioning me to proclaim the glad tidings of
.peace. Eeturning to my home, I sought an inter-
view with my parents and communicated to them my

piONEEE Life'. 275^

call to the ministry, as a missionary, and expressed
my determination to obey the summons.

' ' I was about 18 years of age when I left the home-
of my youth for the perils of the wilderness. I bent
my steps to western Pennsylvania, where I remained
for some yea^s, until it became settled with white
inhabitants ; from thence I made jhy way into th«-
Ohip forests, where I remained for some years after
the war of 1812, preaching and teaching, and other-
wise trying to benefit my fellows. Finding that my
sphere of usefulness was diminished in Ohio, I left
it a^few* years ago, and have made my way into this
reigion, where I shall lay my wearied iimbs forever at
rest. ' '

"Your's indeed is a singular history, " replied the
settler, ' 'hut have you never been at home since you:
left?"

. ."ff owe," replied the old man while tears rolled
down his furrowed cheeks— "jBTowe," repeated he,
and his eyes shone with a lustre of divinity, ' ' I have
no home on earth.. My home is over yonder," and
he raised his trembling hand, and pointed towards;
the skies. "But," continued he, "there were sunny
spots in childhood's palmy days — and well do I re-
member the endearing affections of the home of my
youth — the fond smiles of a tender hearted mother^
and the sweet kisses of an affectionate sister — all'
these endearing associations I relinquished for ever,.
and made the wild wide forest my earthly habitation,,
^nd its wild beast's and wild men my companions..
The flower strewn earth, for the past 40 years, has-
been my only bed, and the leafy grove or star
spangled heavens my only shelter. Rain or sun-
shine, wind or calm, wet or dry — all the same to
me. Mine has been a life of peril — and of privations^
— yet I have been happy.

276 PIONEEE LIFE.

"that in holding converse with Nature's Grod through
the medium of His works, one realizes a happiness
never dreamed of in the home circle.

' ' Go, sir, as I have gone, alone, all alone amid the
•dark tall trees of the forest, by the side of the mur-
muring stream, or the placid lake, and there let the
lieart meditate — and you will feel and experience
the highest sense of enoyjment. In roving the for-
est you can inhale the sweet fragrance of the flowers
that fringe your path, you can. hear the sweet min-
strelsy of the sighing winds through the thick foli-
age of the trees, you can listen to the heart-cheering
music of the feathered chorists, you can gaze upon
the deep blue sky, boundless in expanse, and let
your imagination carry you to the home of the blest
— and in all of this you will feel a joy and ^happiness «
"which are not found in the halls of fashionable Uf e. ' '

"Strange and mysterious being, who art thou?"
asked the deeply interested settler, who had listened
to the deeply touching pathos of the old man, as he
spoke of his wanderings through the forest.

"I am a lone pilgrim," replied the old man, "my
name is written in the Lamb's book of lifej and read
there by all the hosts of heaven. I am journeying.,
to a country unseen by mortal eyes, where I shall
live and live forevermore. "

"But I would know -thy. name, that I might re-
Biember thee, in after days," replied the settler.

"My name," responded the old man, "is Jonathan
Chapman ; I am more familiarly known among the
people of western Pennsylvania and northwestern
Ohio as Johny Appleseed."

"What!" exclaimed the settler in much- astonish-
ment, "Johnny Appleseed of Richland County no-
toriety?"

"The same," replied Johnny, and casting his
searching eyes full into the face of the settler, asked
liim if ever he had resided there.

PIONKEB LIFE. 277

"That," replied the settler, "was my home in
.1811. I was then a small boy. I recollect of seeing^
you, but I suppose you do not recollect me. On the
breaking out of the war my father removed to Cleve-
land, where we remained till the close of the war,,
when we moved to this region."

"Well," replied the old man, "since you have seen
me in the prime of life, and as you now find me on
the verge of death, let me ask but oue favor of
you, in the name of Him in whose cause I have lived
and will shortly die."

"Name it," replied the generous settler, "name it
and your request shall be gratified."

"I would ask the privilege of your house in which
to end my days, which -yqu may rest assured are but
few, for I feel 'that death is even now destroying
this earthly tabernacle of 'mine."

"The cabin of my father, in other days," replied
the kind hearted settler, "was always open to sup-
ply the wants of the Restitute stranger ; and his gen-
erous example shall be followed by his son. There-
fore, venerable old man, consider my house your
home."

"Thank you, thank you," replied the, old pilgrim,^
while tears fell fast and thick from his fine black
eyes.

The sun had already gone down, and the shades of
night were sefting in — the old man had walked sev-
eral miles during the day and was much fatigued.
He begged his host for a bowl of milk and a piece of
.bread. At this moment the settler's wife, a fine
portly, good-looking lady opened the door and an-
nounced supper waiting.

"You'll please step out to supper," said the set-
j;ler, but the old man begged to eat by himself. His
request was granted, after which they retired to bed,
the old man persisting in sleeping upon the floor.
Before retiring he asked permission to hold a spir-

278 PIONEEB LIFE.

itual commtmion with the family, and taking from
his little budget the work of life, he opened and read :

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the
kingdom of Heaven. Blessed are they that mourn,
for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek,
for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed ai'e they
which do himger and thirst after righteousness ; for
they shall be filled. Blessedxare the merciful, for
they shall obtain mercy. Blessed are the pure in
heart, for they shall see God." Then, closing the
book, he invoked the blessings of heaven upon the
family, and lay down to rest.

Morning came., A bright and glorious sun rose
unclouded. A holy calm was spread over the land-
scape, while the forest echoed with the music of the
many feather songsters which filled the grove. But
there was one within the walls of that humble little
cottage that saw not the rising sun nor heard that
soul-inspiring music, for on entering the room where
the lonely .stranger lay, it was discovered that he
had indeed gone to rest. He was dead,, he had died
without a struggle, and upon his pale and bloodless
lips rested the smile of joy with which he died. Per-
hape he had ben conversing with his loved ones, who
soothed and comforted his weary spirit in his dying
moments.

Thus died Johnny Appleseed, who had lived a
moral blameless life, and had wandered like a de-
serted pilgrim through the dreary wilderness, a
stranger among strangers.

His reihains are now lying near Fort Wayne, Al-
len Co., Indiana.

The balance-of our story is soon told. Philip Sey-
mour was united in marriage with Anne Bradley,
the supposed daughter of Captain Pipe, of Eichland
Co., and after paying his friends a visit in Pennsyl-'
vania, settled down on a beautiful location in one
of the southwestern States. Alfred Bradley accom-

PIONEER LIFE. 279

panied Philip and his sister to their new home in
Texas, and was killed in the battle of San Jacinto,
while fighting for' the liberties of Texas, in 1836.

Bunty, Billy, a few years after leaving Michland
Co., married the young squaw with whom he had
the' rough and tumble scuffle on the village green;
and shortly afterwards emigrated farther westward.
Captain Pipe died at a good old age, among his red
brethren in the far west, in the Indian Reservation.

And thus ends our truthful narration. Long years
have passed away since the scenes described herein
have been enacted. Yet there are still many living
witness'es in this country who will bear testimony to
the more important facts contained herein. But
after all, many for want of knowledge will feel dis-
posed to call the whole in question, and treat the
whole as a work of fiction, the production of imagi-
nation.

Gathers again will find no objections to the truth
of the matter, but to the manner of composition. In
many instances words of rather doubtful morality
are used. To this we answer : A faithful historian
must use such language as will convey the most faith-
ful inipressions of the character described. In many
instances, however, we have transgressed this rule
in the composition of this work, and have used in-
stead of the language given us, a milder type.

The work is not free from imperfections; but as
it is, we throw it before the public for their accept-
ance or refusal. If it has merits it will be appreci-
ated ; if it be destitute of them, it should be consigned
with all worthless trash to everlasting condemna-
tion. '

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