CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
Cornell University Library 
 PS 2359.M115P5 1908 
 
 Philip Seymour :or. Pioneer life in Rich 
 
 3 1924 022 035 673 
 
The original of tliis book is in 
 tlie Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022035673 
 
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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