University of Virginia Library

4. CHAPTER IV.

The war party, accompanied by Koningsmarke,
and the new chief, the Jumping Sturgeon,
dressed in the manner before described,
proceeded with great celerity on its march towards
the Ohio. The savages never encumber
themselves with baggage, and generally fight in
a breech-cloth, leggings, and moccasins. Although
there is no punishment but that of disgrace
among them, they act in concert on their
war expeditions, and obey the orders of the chief
warrior with cheerfulness and punctuality. The
officers lay the plan of attack, and conduct the
operations until the battle commences, when every
man fights for himself, as if the victory depended
on him alone. The order to advance or
retreat is generally given with a yell or a shout,

which is readily understood and obeyed. No
corporeal punishment was permitted or practised
among these tribes, either in peace or war, except
in retaliation for similar outrages; and such
is their abhorrence of stripes, that they never
even chastise their children. On one occasion,
a chief beat his son, a boy of about ten years old,
during the absence of its mother, who, on her
return, was so indignant at the outrage, that
she took the boy with her, and departed, like
another Hagar, to the wilderness. Her husband
traced her to a distant tribe, and, being unable
to persuade her to return, remained with
her, and never joined his friends afterwards.
The only punishment inflicted on children, is
that of ducking, which accounts for a saying
among them, that their pappooses are always
better in winter than in summer, as they do not
mind a ducking in warm weather.

The party proceeded with that silence and
celerity, so characteristic of the red-men of the
western hemisphere, until they arrived within
about half a day's journey of the village inhabited
by their enemies. Each man was then forbidden
either to make a noise, or fire a gun,
and they remained lying on the ground, in the
thick woods, until dark, when they commenced

their march, with even greater caution and
swiftness than before. Their object was to effect
a complete surprise, by approaching the village
without even alarming the dogs, those watchful
guardians of the night. About two hours before
day they arrived at the little town. There was
not a fire burning, and every soul in it seemed
fast asleep. Not a sound was heard, except the
owl and the wolf, the former screaming, the latter
howling his dismal notes at a distance. All
at once, and just before the Muskrats and Mud-Turtles
had made their final dispositions for the
onset, a deep-mouthed hound yelled forth the
signal of alarm, which was answered by a hundred
others in an instant.

At the sound of this well-known signal, the
sleeping warriors of the village started up, and,
seizing their arms, rushed out, while the assailants
as suddenly came upon them. The village
fronted close on the river's bank, which consisted
of two steps, or terraces, rising one above
the other, the uppermost receding fifteen or
twenty paces in the rear of the other. These
are generally denominated, at the present time,
the first and second banks of the rivers of the
west. Below ran the Ohio, with a deep and
somewhat rapid current.

An Indian battle is like one of Homer's, and
consists, for the most part, in a series of personal
contests. Each one singles out his adversary,
and personal strength and prowess carry
the day. Dire was the yelling and shouting
which succeeded the alarm in the village. The
warriors of the Ohio, though taken by surprise,
fought manfully, and the various feats of arms
performed that morning, might throw into the
shade the splendid acts of tilt and tourney.
Among those who most distinguished themselves
on this occasion, was the Jumping Sturgeon,
who, making a virtue of necessity, and not
daring to run away, fought right valiantly, from
pure instinct, to save his life.

He was singled out by a tall Indian, just
about daylight, who, watching the moment
when he had discharged his gun, and before he
could load again, quickly advanced upon him
with his lifted tomahawk. The Sturgeon clubbed
his musket, and both slowly approached,
cautiously eyeing each other. At length the
tall chief let fly his tomahawk, which his adversary
watching, presented his buffalo cap with
such surprising judgment, that the weapon was
received upon one of the horns, and fell innocuous
to the ground, doing the Sturgeon no

other damage than that of setting his head to
ringing bob-majors. Taking advantage, however,
of the temporary confusion created by this
said ringing, the tall Chief suddenly rushed upon
the ci-devant high constable of Elsingburgh,
before he could make a blow with his musket,
and a mortal contest of skill and strength took
place. They fell, the tall Indian uppermost.
In this situation the Indian began to yell horribly,
and to feel for his knife; but, luckily for
the Jumping Sturgeon, his adversary wore,
by way of ornament, that day, a woman's apron,
which he had bought from a French trader,
and, in the hurry of surprise, tied on over his
knife. This prevented his getting it out as
quickly as he otherwise would have done, and
enabled Lob Dotterel, alias the Jumping Sturgeon,
to get one of his thumbs in his mouth.
This not only disabled one of the Indian's
hands, but embarrassed the operation of the
other, by the pain it occasioned. At length
the Indian got hold of the blade of his knife,
just below the haft, at the moment the other
found an opportunity to seize the handle, chewing
the Indian's thumb all the while with great
vigour. As the Indian pulled the knife out of
the scabbard, Lob gave his thumb a terrible
screw between his teeth, and, at the same moment,
jerked the knife through his hand, cutting
the fingers to the bone. This disconcerted the
Indian, so that he relaxed his hold, and, by a
sudden effort, the other threw him off and jumped
on his feet, just as the Indian also did the
same. The valiant Sturgeon, however, continued
to hold fast the Indian's thumb between his
grinders with singular tenacity, and thus maintained
a decided advantage over his antagonist,
to whose ribs he was at length enabled to apply
the knife he had wrested from him. The
moment he felt the application, although it was
arrested by the said ribs, the Indian gave a yell,
and, with a violent start, drew part of his thumb
from betwixt the high constable's grinders, a
portion of it remaining behind, and retreated
with great precipitation, leaving his adversary
master of the field.

In the mean time the battle raged with great
fury in the village, and along the river's bank.
The Long Finne having, in the confusion of the
fight, followed a stout chief to the edge of the
first bank, the latter suddenly turned about,
seized, and drew him down on the beach, just
at the edge of the water, where was hid an
Indian boy, of about fourteen or fifteen years

of age. The Long Finne fell uppermost, but
during the struggle to keep him down, the
warrior said something to the Indian lad, who
ran up the bank like a deer, and almost instantly
returned with a tomahawk. On perceiving
his approach, the large Indian put his arms
about Koningsmarke, and held him fast with all
his strength, while the other approached with
his lifted tomahawk. Thus pinioned, the youth
had no other resource but to watch the blow
of the Indian lad, which he opportunely arrested
by a kick, that knocked it from his grasp to
some distance. At this, the large Indian uttered
an exclamation of contempt for the lad, who
immediately ran and picked up the tomahawk,
with which he again approached, but with great
caution, making various evolutions and pretended
blows to deceive Koningsmarke, till he got
an opportunity to give the fatal one. Such,
however, was the vigilance and activity of
Koningsmarke, that he escaped this time, with
a wound in his arm, that failed in disabling him.
Perceiving the lad was returning again to repeat
the blow, and being conscious that this
mode of warfare must result entirely to his
disadvantage, he made a sudden, violent, and
unexpected effort, escaped from the embrace
of the large Indian, gained his feet, seized his
musket, which he had dropped in falling down
the bank, and shot the Indian boy through the
heart, as he ran up a third time with his tomahawk.

The large Indian was now on his feet also,
and, suddenly seizing Koningsmarke by the leg,
pitched him heels over head into the water.
The same impulse carried the Indian down the
slippery bank after him; and now a desperate
and deadly struggle ensued, each straining
every nerve, and exerting every art and effort
to drown his adversary. Sometimes one would
be under, and sometimes the other, until, half
strangled, Koningsmarke had the good fortune
to seize the Indian by the only lock of hair he
wore on his head. By this means he was
enabled to force his head under water, and to
keep it there. This appeared to decide the
conflict. The efforts of the Indian seemed
gradually to relax, and to become apparently
unpurposed, as if he was fast sinking into insensibility.
Koningsmarke relaxed his grasp, and
discovered too late the wily stratagem. The moment
he let go his hair the Indian was on his
feet again, and the contest was renewed, until,
as they by degrees pushed each other into

the stream, they were borne by the current beyond
their depth.

The instinct of self-preservation soon took
another direction. Both, as if actuated by one
impulse, now let go of each other, and made for
the shore, to seize the weapons which were lying
there, consisting of the tomahawk and two guns,
one of which, belonging to the Indian, had not
been discharged. The Indian was the better
swimmer of the two, and succeeded in gaining
the shore first. He ran to the loaded musket,
and almost at the same moment Koningsmarke
seized the tomahawk. The Indian raised the
gun, took a sure and deadly aim, and drew the
trigger. The gun snapped, and before the savage
warrior could cock her again, the active
youth sprung upon him, and buried the tomahawk
in his burning brain. He uttered a horrible
yell; but even in the agonies of death, remembering
the point of honour, which, among
the sons of the forest, consists in not leaving
their dead bodies in the hands of their enemies,
with a dying effort, he plunged into the stream,
where he was carried down the current, beyond
the reach of his enemies.[1]

By this time, the resistance of the Indian villagers
had ceased. They had fought long
enough to enable their wives and children to escape
beyond the river, and, having lost many of
their best warriors, besides others that were
wounded, the survivors took an opportunity, at
a well-known signal, to plunge into the river,
where, by dexterously diving at every discharge
of their enemies, and other evolutions, they
finally gained the opposite bank, and disappeared.
The victors then set fire to the village,
after plundering it; yelled, danced, feasted, and
sung, during the rest of the day, and at night departed
in triumph to their homes.

But we ought not to omit mentioning, that,
after all, the success of the expedition of the
Muskrats and Mud-Turtles, was, in no small degree,
owing to that great medicine, Lob Dotteral's
wig. The wig had been solemnly consigned
to the custody of the principal priest, or conjurer,
who clapped it on his head, and accompanied
the party. When the battle commenced,
the conjurer danced, sung, cut capers, and
made such an intolerable noise, as to excite the
particular attention of one of the hostile chiefs,
who immediately advanced to silence him. The
conjurer retreated—the warrior followed—and,

coming up with him, seized his queue, which, to
his utter dismay, came off, leaving the bare pate
of the conjurer perfectly uninjured. The simple
warrior of the forest was dismayed at this
strange wonder; and it was soon whispered
about that the enemy was in possession of a
great medicine, which preserved their heads at
the expense of their hair. This dicouraged the
Ohio warriors, so that they did not fight with a
good heart afterwards. On such trifles do the
fate of villages, cities, and empires turn!