University of Virginia Library

In 1769, (says Withers,) Col. Ebenezer Zane, his brothers Silas and Jonathan, with
some others from the south branch of the Potomac, visited the Ohio for the purpose of
making improvements, and severally proceeded to select positions for their future residence.
They chose for their residence the site now occupied by the city of Wheeling,[1]
and having made the requisite preparations returned to their former homes, and brought
out their families the ensuing year. The Zanes were men of enterprise, tempered with
prudence, and directed by sound judgment. To the bravery and good conduct of these
three brothers, the Wheeling settlement was mainly indebted for its security and preservation
during the war of the revolution. Soon after the settlement of this place,
other settlements were made at different points, both above and below Wheeling, and
the country on Buffalo, Short, and Grave creeks.

Wheeling, situated on one of the high banks of the Ohio, was not in existence 12
years ago. At present it contains about 70 houses, built of planks, which, as in all the
rising towns of the United States, are separated by an interval of several toises. This
little town is confined by a long hill, from a hundred and eighty to two hundred toises
in height, the base of which is not further from the river than two hundred toises. In
this interval the houses are built; they form only one street, having one road in the middle.
* * * Here are 12 or 15 well-provided stores, from which the inhabitants for
20 miles round are supplied. This small town also participates in the exportation trade
carried on between Pittsburg and the western country. Several of the traders of Philadelphia
prefer sending their merchandise here, although it is a day's journey further;
but this slight inconvenience is amply compensated by the advantage they derive, in
avoiding the long circuit made by the Ohio on quitting Pittsburg, in which the very numerous
shallows and the want of rapidity in the current, during the summer, retard the
navigation.

At Wheeling we lodged with Capt. Reymer, who keeps a tavern at the sign of the
Wagon, and takes boarders for two piasters [$2] a week. The living is very good at
his house for this money, for provisions are not dear here. Twelve fowls are sold for a
piaster, [$1,] and a quintal [100 weight] of flour was not worth more than a piaster and
a half.

Fort Henry stood immediately on the left bank of the Ohio, about a quarter of a mile
above Wheeling creek. It is said to have been planned by Gen. George Rogers Clarke,
and was constructed under the superintendence of Ebenezer Zane and John Caldwell.
It was originally called Fort Fincastle, and was a place of refuge for the settlers in
Dunmore's war. The name was afterwards changed to Fort Henry, in honor of Patrick
Henry. The fort was built on open ground, and covered a space of about three-quarters
of an acre. It was a parallelogram, having a block-house at each corner, with lines of
stout pickets, about eight feet high, extending from one block-house to another. Within
the enclosure were a storehouse, barrack-rooms, garrison-well, and a number of cabins
for the use of families. The principal entrance was through a gateway on the eastern
side of the fort, next to the then straggling village of Wheeling, consisting of about 25
log-houses.

The savages, variously estimated at from 380 to 500 warriors, having been abundantly
supplied with arms and provisions by the British governor, Hamilton, at Detroit,
and led on by Girty, were brought before the walls of Fort Henry before Col. Shepherd,
the commandant, knew of their real design. Some symptoms of their propinquity having
been discovered, the settlers in the vicinity had, the night previous, sought shelter
within the fort.

The garrison numbered only 42 fighting men, all told, counting those advanced in
years as well as those who were mere boys. A portion of them were skilled in Indian
warfare, and all were excellent marksmen. The storehouse was amply supplied with
muskets, but was sadly deficient in ammunition.

The next morning Col. Shepherd dispatched a man, accompanied by a negro, on an
errand a short distance from the fort. The white man was brought to the ground by a
blow from the firelock of an Indian; but the negro escaped back into the fort, and gave
intelligence that they had been waylaid by a party of Indians in a cornfield.

As soon as the negro related his story, the colonel dispatched Captain Samuel
Mason, with fourteen men, to dislodge the Indians from the field. Captain Mason with
his party marched through the field, and arrived almost on the bank of the creek without
finding the Indians, and had already commenced a retrograde movement when he
was suddenly and furiously assailed in front, flank, and rear, by the whole of Girty's

army. The captain rallied his men from the confusion produced by this unexpected
demonstration of the enemy, and instantly comprehending the situation in which he was
placed, gallantly took the lead, and hewed a passage through the savage phalanx that
opposed him. In this desperate conflict more than half the little band were slain, and
their leader severely wounded. Intent on retreating back to the fort, Mason pressed
rapidly on with the remnant of his command, the Indians following closely in pursuit.
One by one these devoted soldiers fell at the crack of the enemy's rifle. An Indian
who eagerly pursued Captain Mason, at length overtook him; and to make sure his
prey, fired at him from the distance of five paces; but the shot, although it took effect,
did not disable the captain, who immediately turned about, and hurling his gun at the
head of his pursuer, felled him to the earth. The fearlessness with which this act was
performed caused an involuntary dispersion of the gang of Indians who led the pursuit;
and Mason, whose extreme exhaustion of physical powers prevented him from reaching
the fort, was fortunate enough to hide himself in a pile of fallen timber, where he was
compelled to remain to the end of the siege. Only two of his men survived the skirmish,
and they, like their leader, owed their safety to the heaps of logs and brush that
abounded in the cornfield.

As soon as the critical situation of Captain Mason became known at the fort, Captain
Ogle, with twelve volunteers from the garrison, sallied forth to cover his retreat. This
noble, self-devoted band, in their eagerness to press forward to the relief of their suffering
fellow-soldiers, fell into an ambuscade, and two-thirds of their number were slain
upon the spot. Sergeant Jacob Ogle, though mortally wounded, managed to escape
with two soldiers into the woods, while Captain Ogle escaped in another direction, and
found a place of concealment, which, like his brother officer, Captain Mason, he was
obliged to keep as long as the siege continued. Immediately after the departure of
Captain Ogle's command, three new volunteers left the garrison to overtake and reinforce
him. These men, however, did not reach the cornfield until after the bloody
scenes had been enacted, and barely found time to return to the fort before the Indian
host appeared before it. The enemy advanced in two ranks, in open order, their left
flank reaching to the river bank, and their right extending into the woods as far as the
eye could reach. As the three volunteers were about to enter the gate, a few random
shots were fired at them, and instantly a loud whoop arose on the enemy's left flank,
which passed as if by concert, along the line to the extreme right, until the welkin was
filled with a chorus of the most wild and startling character. This salute was responded
to by a few well-directed rifle-shots from the lower block-houses, which produced a
manifest confusion in the ranks of the besiegers. They discontinued their shouting and
retired a few paces, probably to await the coming up of their right flank, which, it would
seem, had been directed to make a general sweep of the bottom, and then approach the
stockade on the eastern side.

At this moment the garrison of Fort Henry numbered no more than twelve men and
boys. The fortunes of the day, so far, had been fearfully against them; two of their
best officers and more than two-thirds of their original force were missing. The exact
fate of their comrades was unknown to them, but they had every reason to apprehend
that they had been cut to pieces. Still they were not dismayed; their mothers, sisters,
wives, and children, were assembled around them; they had a sacred charge to protect,
and they resolved to fight to the last extremity, and confidently trusted in Heaven for
the successful issue of the combat.

When the enemy's right flank came up, Girty changed his order of attack. Parties
of Indians were placed in such of the village houses as commanded a view of the blockhouses;
a strong body occupied the yard of Ebenezer Zane, about fifty yards from the
fort, using a paling-fence as a cover, while the greater part were posted under cover in
the edge of the cornfield, to act offensively or serve as a corps of reserve, as occasion
might require. These dispositions having been made, Girty, with a white flag in his
hand, appeared at the window of a cabin, and demanded the surrender of the garrison in
the name of his Britannic majesty. He read the proclamation of Governor Hamilton,
and promised them protection if they would lay down their arms and swear allegiance
to the British crown. He warned them to submit peaceably, and admitted his inability
to restrain the passions of his warriors when they once became excited with the strife
of battle. Colonel Shepherd promptly told him in reply, that the garrison would never
surrender to him, and that he could only obtain possession of the fort when there remained
no longer an American soldier to defend it. Girty renewed his proposition, but
before he finished his harangue, a thoughtless youth in one of the block-houses fired a
gun at the speaker, and brought the conference to an abrupt termination. Girty disappeared,

and in about fifteen minutes the Indians opened the siege by a general discharge
of rifles.

It was yet quite early in the morning, the sun not having appeared above the summit
of Wheeling hill, and the day is represented to have been one of surpassing beauty.
The Indians, not entirely concealed from the view of the garrison, kept up a brisk fire
for the space of six hours without much intermission. The little garrison, in spite of its
heterogeneous character, was, with scarcely an exception, composed of sharp-shooters.
Several of them, whose experience in Indian warfare gave them a remarkable degree
of coolness and self-possession in the face of danger, infused confidence into the young;
and, as they never fired at random, their bullets, in most cases, took effect. The Indians,
on the contrary, gloated with their previous success, their tomahawks reeking with the
blood of Mason's and Ogle's men, and all of them burning with impatience to rush into
the fort and complete their work of butchery, discharged their guns against the pickets,
the gate, the logs of the block-houses, and every other object that seemed to shelter a
white man. Their fire was thus thrown away. At length some of their most daring
warriors rushed up close to the block-houses, and attempted to make more sure work by
firing through the logs; but these reckless savages received, from the well-directed rifles
of the frontiersmen, the fearful reward of their temerity. About one o'clock the Indians
discontinued their fire, and fell back against the base of the hill.

The stock of gunpowder in the fort having been nearly exhausted, it was determined
to seize the favorable opportunity offered by the suspension of hostilities, to send for a
keg of powder which was known to be in the house of Ebenezer Zane, about 60 yards
from the gate of the fort. The person executing this service would necessarily expose
himself to the danger of being shot down by the Indians, who were yet sufficiently near
to observe every thing that transpired about the works. The colonel explained the matter
to his men, and, unwilling to order one of them to undertake such a desperate enterprise,
inquired whether any man would volunteer for the service. Three or four
young men promptly stepped forward in obedience to the call. The colonel informed
them that the weak state of the garrison would not justify the absence of more than one
man, and that it was for themselves to decide who that person should be. The eagerness
felt by each volunteer to undertake the honorable mission, prevented them from
making the arrangement proposed by the commandant; and so much time was consumed
in the contention between them, that fears began to arise that the Indians would
renew the attack before the powder could be procured. At this crisis, a young lady,
the sister of Ebenezer and Silas Zane, came forward and desired that she might be permitted
to execute the service. This proposition seemed so extravagant that it met with
a peremptory refusal; but she instantly renewed her petition in terms of redoubled earnestness,
and all the remonstrances of the colonel and her relatives failed to dissuade
her from her heroic purpose. It was finally represented to her that either of the young
men, on account of his superior fleetness and familiarity with scenes of danger, would
be more likely than herself to do the work successfully. She replied, that the danger
which would attend the enterprise was the identical reason that induced her to offer her
services, for, as the garrison was very weak, no soldier's life should be placed in needless
jeopardy, and that if she were to fall her loss would not be felt. Her petition was
ultimately granted, and the gate opened for her to pass out. The opening of the gate
arrested the attention of several Indians who were straggling through the village. It
was noticed that their eyes were upon her as she crossed the open space to reach her
brother's house; but seized, perhaps, with a sudden freak of clemency, or believing that
a woman's life was not worth a load of gunpowder, or influenced by some other unexplained
motive, they permitted her to pass without molestation. When she reappeared
with the powder in her arms, the Indians, suspecting, no doubt, the character of her
burden, elevated their firelocks and discharged a volley at her as she swiftly glided towards
the gate; but the balls all flew wide of the mark, and the fearless girl reached
the fort in safety with her prize. The pages of history may furnish a parallel to the
noble exploit of Elizabeth Zane, but an instance of greater self-devotion and moral intrepidity
is not to be found anywhere.[2]

About half past 2 o'clock, the Indians put themselves again in motion, and advanced
to renew the siege. As in the first attack, a portion of their warriors took possession of
the cabins contiguous to the fort, while others availed themselves of the cover afforded
by Zane's paling-fence. A large number posted themselves in and behind a blacksmith-shop

and stable that stood opposite the northern line of pickets; and another party,
probably the strongest of all, stationed themselves under cover of a worm-fence and several
large piles of fallen timber on the south side of the fort. The siege was now reopened
from the latter quarter—a strong gang of Indians advancing under cover of
some large stumps that stood on the side of the declivity below the fort, and renewing
the combat with loud yells and a brisk fire. The impetuosity of the attack on the south
side brought the whole garrison to the two lower block-houses, from which they were
enabled to pour out a destructive fire upon the enemy in that quarter. While the garrison
was thus employed, a party of 18 or 20 Indians, armed with rails and billets of
wood, rushed out of Zane's yard and made an attempt to force open the gate of the
fort. Their design was discovered in time to defeat it; but they only abandoned it
after five or six of their number had been shot down. Upon the failure of this scheme,
the Indians opened a fire upon the fort from all sides, except from that next to the river,
which afforded no shelter to a besieging host. On the north and the east the battle
raged most fiercely; for, notwithstanding the strength of the assailants on the south,
the unfavorableness of the ground prevented them from prosecuting with much vigor the
attack which they had commenced with such fury.

The rifles used by the garrison, towards evening became so much heated by continued
firing, that they were rendered measurably useless; and recourse was then had to muskets,
a full supply of which was found in the storehouse. As darkness set in, the fire
of the savages grew weaker, though it was not entirely discontinued until next morning.
Shortly after nightfall, a considerable party of Indians advanced within 60 yards of the
fort, bringing with them a hollow maple log, which they had converted into a field-piece,
by plugging up one of its ends with a block of wood. To give it additional strength, a
quantity of chains, taken from the blacksmith-shop, encompassed it from one end to the
other. It was heavily charged with powder, and then filled to the muzzle with pieces of
stone, slugs of iron, and such other hard substances as could be found. The cannon
was graduated carefully to discharge its contents against the gate of the fort. When
the match was applied it burst into many fragments; and although it made no effect
upon the fort, it killed and wounded several of the Indians who stood by to witness its
discharge. A loud yell succeeded the failure of this experiment, and the crowd dispersed.
By this time the Indians generally had withdrawn from the siege, and fallen
back against the hill to take rest and food. Numbers of stragglers, however, lurked
about the village all night, keeping up an irregular fire on the fort, and destroying whatever
articles of furniture and household comfort they chanced to find in the cabins.

Late in the evening, Francis Duke, a son-in-law of Col. Shepherd, arrived from the
Forks of Wheeling, and was shot down by the Indians before he could reach the gate of
the fort. About 4 o'clock next morning, (September 28th,) Col. Swearingen, with 14
men, arrived in a periogue from Cross creek, and was fortunate enough to fight his way
into the fort without the loss of a man.

About daybreak, Major Samuel McColloch, with 40 mounted men from Short creek,
came to the relief of the little garrison. The gate was thrown open, and McColloch's
men, though closely beset by the Indians, entered in safety; but McColloch himself
was not permitted to pass the gateway: the Indians crowded around him and separated
him from his party. After several ineffectual attempts to force his way to the gate, he
wheeled about and galloped with the swiftness of a deer in the direction of Wheeling
hill.

The Indians might easily have killed him. But they cherished towards him an
almost phrensied hatred; for he had participated in so many encounters that almost
every warrior personally knew him. To take him alive, and glut their full revenge by
the most fiendish tortures, was their object; and they made almost superhuman exertions
to capture him. He put spurs to his horse, but soon became completely hemmed
in on three sides, and the fourth was an almost perpendicular precipice of 150 feet descent,
with Wheeling creek at its base. Supporting his rifle in his left hand, and carefully
adjusting his reins with the other, he urged his horse to the brink of the bluff, and
then made the leap which decided his fate. In the next moment the noble steed, still
bearing his intrepid rider in safety, was at the foot of the precipice. McColloch immediately
dashed across the creek, and was soon beyond the reach of the Indians.

After the escape of Major McColloch, the Indians concentrated at the foot of the
hill, and soon after set fire to all the houses and fences outside the fort, and killed about
300 head of cattle belonging to the settlers. They then raised the siege, and took up
their line of march to some other theatre of action.

During the investiture, not a man within the fort was killed, and only one wounded,

and that wound was a slight one. But the loss sustained by the whites during the
enemy's inroad was remarkably severe. Of the 42 men who were in the fort on the
morning of the 27th, no less than 23 were killed in the cornfield before the siege commenced.
The two men who had been sent down the river the previous night in a canoe,
were intercepted by the Indians and killed also; and, if we include Mr. Duke in the
list, the loss sustained by the settlement amounted to 26 killed, besides four or five
wounded. The enemy's loss was from 60 to 100. Agreeably to their ancient custom,
they removed their dead from the field before the siege was raised; the extent of their
loss is therefore merely conjectural.

The defence of Fort Henry, when we consider the extreme weakness of the garrison
and the forty-fold superiority of the besieging host, was admirably conducted. Foremost
on the list of these brave frontier soldiers was Col. Shepherd, the commandant of the
fort, whose good conduct on this occasion gained for him the appointment of county-lieutenant
from Gov. Patrick Henry. The brothers Silas and Ebenezer Zane, and John
Caldwell, men of influence in the community, and the first settlers at Wheeling, are
spoken of as having contributed much to the success of the battle. Besides the names
already mentioned, those of Abraham Rogers, John Linn, Joseph Biggs, and Robert
Lemmon must not be omitted, as they were among the best Indian-fighters on the frontier,
and aided much in achieving the victory of the day. The lady of Ebenezer Zane,
together with several other females in the fort, undismayed by the sanguinary strife that
was going on, employed themselves in running bullets and preparing patches for the use
of the men; and, by their presence at every point where they could make themselves
useful, and by their cheering words of encouragement, infused new life into the soldiers,
and spurred them on in the performance of their duty. The noble act of Elizabeth
Zane, which has already been related, inspired the men with an enthusiasm which contributed
not a little to turn the fortunes of the day. The affair at Fort Henry was emphatically
one of the battles of the revolution. The northwestern Indians were as
much the mercenary troops of Great Britain as were the Hessians and the Waldeckers,
who fought at Bennington, Saratoga, and in New Jersey. If the price received by the
Indians for the scalps of American citizens did not always amount to the daily pay of
the European minions of England, it was, nevertheless, sufficient to prove that the
American savages and the German hirelings were precisely on the same footing as part
and parcel of the British army.

Lewis Wetzel.—Lewis Wetzel was the son of John Wetzel, a German, who settled
on Big Wheeling, about fourteen miles from the river. He was among the first adventurers
into that part of the country. His education, like that of his cotemporaries, was
that of the hunter and warrior. When a boy, he adopted the practice of loading and
firing his rifle as he ran. This was a means of making him so destructive to the Indians
afterwards.

When about thirteen years old, he was taken prisoner by the Indians, together with
his brother Jacob, about eleven years old. Before he was taken he received a slight
wound in the breast from a bullet, which carried off a small piece of his breast-bone.
The second night after they were taken, the Indians encamped at the Big Lick, twenty
miles from the river, on the waters of M'Mahan's creek. The boys were not confined.
After the Indians had fallen asleep, Lewis whispered to his brother Jacob that he must
get up and go back home with him. Jacob at first objected, but afterwards got up and
went along with him. When they had got about one hundred yards from the camp,
they sat down on a log. "Well," said Lewis, "we can't go home barefooted; I will go
back and get a pair of moccasins for each of us;" and accordingly did so, and returned.
After sitting a little longer, "Now," says he, "I will go back and get father's gun, and

then we'll start." This he effected. They had not travelled far on the trail by which
they came, before they heard the Indians coming after them. It was a moonlight night.
When the Indians came pretty nigh them, they stepped aside into the bushes, let them
pass, then fell into their rear, and travelled on. On the return of the Indians they did
the same. They were then pursued by two Indians on horseback, whom they dodged
in the same way. The next day they reached Wheeling in safety, crossing from the Indian
shore to Wheeling island on a raft of their own making. By this time Lewis had
become almost spent from his wound.

In the year 1782, after Crawford's defeat, Lewis went with a Thomas Mills, who had
been in the campaign, to get his horse, which he had left near the place where St. Clairsville
now stands. At the Indian springs, two miles from St. Clairsville, on the Wheeling
road, they were met by about forty Indians, who were in pursuit of the stragglers
from the campaign. The Indians and white men discovered each other about the same
moment. Lewis fired first and killed an Indian, while the Indians wounded Mills in the
heel, who was soon overtaken and killed. Four of the Indians then singled out, dropped
their guns, and pursued Wetzel. Wetzel loaded his rifle as he ran. After running about
half a mile, one of the Indians having got within eight or ten steps of him, Wetzel
wheeled round and shot him down, ran, and loaded his gun as before. After going
about three quarters of a mile further, a second Indian came so close to him, that when
he turned to fire, the Indian caught the muzzle of the gun, and, as he expressed it, "he
and the Indian had a severe wring." He however succeeded in bringing the muzzle to
the Indian's breast, and killed him on the spot. By this time, he as well as the Indians
were pretty well tired; yet the pursuit was continued by the two remaining Indians.
Wetzel, as before, loaded his gun, and stopped several times during this latter chase:
when he did so, the Indians treed themselves. After going something more than a mile,
Wetzel took advantage of a little open piece of ground over which the Indians were
passing, a short distance behind him, to make a sudden stop for the purpose of shooting
the foremost, who got behind a little sapling which was too small to cover his body.
Wetzel shot, and broke his thigh. The wound in the issue proved fatal. The last of the
Indians then gave a little yell, and said, "No catch dat man, gun always loaded," and
gave up the chase, glad no doubt to get off with his life.

It is said that Lewis Wetzel, in the course of the Indian wars in this part of the country,
killed twenty-seven Indians, besides a number more along the frontier settlements
of Kentucky.

Adam Poe.—In the summer of 1782, a party of seven Wyandots made an incursion
into a settlement some distance below Fort Pitt, and several miles from the Ohio River.
Here finding an old man alone in a cabin, they killed him, packed up what plunder they
could find, and commenced their retreat. Amongst their party was a celebrated Wyandot
chief, who, in addition to his fame as a warrior and counsellor, was, as to his size
and strength, a real giant.

The news of the visit of the Indians soon spread through the neighborhood, and a party
of eight good riflemen was collected in a few hours for the purpose of pursuing the Indians.
In this party were two brothers of the names of Adam and Andrew Poe. They
were both famous for courage, size, and activity. This little party commenced the pursuit
of the Indians with a determination, if possible, not to suffer them to escape, as they
usually did on such occasions, by making a speedy flight to the river, crossing it, and
then dividing into small parties, to meet at a distant point in a given time. The pursuit
was continued the greater part of the night after the Indians had done the mischief.
In the morning the party found themselves on the trail of the Indians, which led to the
river. When arrived within a little distance of the river, Adam Poe, fearing an ambuscade,
left the party, who followed directly on the trail, to creep along the brink of the
river bank, under cover of the weeds and bushes, to fall on the rear of the Indians,
should he find them in ambuscade. He had not gone far before he saw the Indian rafts
at the water's edge. Not seeing any Indians, he stepped softly down the bank, with his
rifle cocked. When about half way down, he discovered the large Wyandot chief and
a small Indian, within a few steps of him. They were standing with their guns cocked,
and looking in the direction of our party, who by this time had gone some distance
lower down the bottom. Poe took aim at the large chief, but his rifle missed fire. The
Indians hearing the snap of the gun-lock, instantly turned round and discovered Poe,
who being too near them to retreat, dropped his gun, and sprang from the bank upon
them, and seizing the large Indian by the clothes on his breast, and at the same time
embracing the neck of the small one, threw them both down on the ground, himself being
uppermost. The small Indian soon extricated himself, ran to the raft, got his tomahawk,

and attempted to dispatch Poe, the large Indian holding him fast in his arms with all his
might, the better to enable his fellow to effect his purpose. Poe, however, so well watched
the motions of his assailant, that, when in the act of aiming his blow at his head, by a
vigorous and well-directed kick with one of his feet, he staggered the savage, and
knocked the tomahawk out of his hand. This failure, on the part of the small Indian,
was reproved by an exclamation of contempt from the large one.

In a moment the Indian caught up his tomahawk again, approached more cautiously,
brandishing his tomahawk, and making a number of feigned blows in defiance and derision.
Poe, however, still on his guard, averted the real blow from his head, by throwing
up his arm and receiving it on his wrist, in which he was severely wounded; but
not so as to lose entirely the use of his hand. In this perilous moment, Poe, by a violent
effort, broke loose from the Indian, snatched up one of the Indians' guns, and shot
the small Indian through the breast, as he ran up a third time to tomahawk him. The
large Indian was now on his feet, and grasping Poe by a shoulder and leg, threw him
down on the bank. Poe instantly disengaged himself, and got on his feet. The Indian
then seized him again, and a new struggle ensued, which, owing to the slippery state of
the bank, ended in the fall of both combatants into the water. In this situation, it was
the object of each to drown the other. Their efforts to effect their purpose were continued
for some time with alternate success, sometimes one being under the water and
sometimes the other. Poe at length seized the tuft of hair on the scalp of the Indian,
with which he held his head under water, until he supposed him drowned. Relaxing his
hold too soon, Poe instantly found his gigantic antagonist on his feet again, and ready
for another combat. In this they were carried into the water beyond their depth. In
this situation they were compelled to loose their hold on each other, and swim for mutual
safety. Both sought the shore, to seize a gun and end the contest with bullets. The
Indian, being the best swimmer, reached the land first. Poe seeing this, immediately
turned back into the water, to escape, if possible, being shot, by diving. Fortunately,
the Indian caught up the rifle with which Poe had killed the other warrior. At this
juncture, Andrew Poe, missing his brother from the party, and supposing from the report
of the gun which he shot, that he was either killed or engaged in conflict with the Indians,
hastened to the spot. On seeing him, Adam called out to him to "kill the big
Indian on shore." But Andrew's gun, like that of the Indian's, was empty. The contest
was now between the white and the Indian, who should load and fire first. Very
fortunately for Poe, the Indian in loading drew the ramrod from the thimbles of the
stock of the gun with so much violence that it slipped out of his hand, and fell a little
distance from him. He quickly caught it up, and rammed down his bullet. This little
delay gave Poe the advantage. He shot the Indian as he was raising his gun to take
aim at him.

As soon as Andrew had shot the Indian, he jumped into the river to assist his wounded
brother to shore; but Adam, thinking more of the honor of carrying the scalp of the big
Indian home as a trophy of victory than of his own safety, urged Andrew to go back,
and prevent the struggling savage from rolling himself into the river and escaping. Andrew's
solicitude for the life of his brother prevented him from complying with this request.
In the mean time, the Indian, jealous of the honor of his scalp even in the agonies
of death, succeeded in reaching the river and getting into the current, so that his
body was never obtained. An unfortunate occurrence took place during this conflict.
Just as Andrew arrived at the top of the bank for the relief of his brother, one of the
party who had followed close behind him, seeing Adam in the river, and mistaking him
for a wounded Indian, shot at him, and wounded him in the shoulder. He however recovered
from his wounds. During the contest between Adam Poe and the Indians, the
party had overtaken the remaining six of them. A desperate conflict ensued, in which
five of the Indians were killed. Our loss was three men killed, and Adam Poe severely
wounded. Thus ended this Spartan conflict, with the loss of three valiant men on our
part, and with that of the whole Indian party excepting one warrior. Never on any
occasion was there a greater display of desperate bravery, and seldom did a conflict take
place, which, in the issue, proved fatal to so great a proportion of those engaged in it.

The fatal result of this little campaign, on the side of the Indians, occasioned a universal
mourning among the Wyandot nation. The big Indian and his four brothers, all
of whom were killed at the same place, were among the most distinguished chiefs and
warriors of their nation.

The big Indian was magnanimous as well as brave. He, more than any other individual,
contributed, by his example and influence, to the good character of the Wyandots
for lenity towards their prisoners. He would not suffer them to be killed or ill-treated.

This mercy to captives was an honorable distinction in the character of the
Wyandots, and was well understood by our first settlers, who, in case of captivity, thought
it a fortunate circumstance to fall into their hands.

The Johnsons.—In the fall of the year 1793, two boys of the name of John and Henry
Johnson, the first thirteen and the latter eleven years old, whose parents lived in Carpenter's
station, a little distance above the mouth of Short creek, on the east side of the
Ohio River, were sent out in the evening to hunt the cows. At the foot of a hill, at the
back of the bottom, they sat down under a hickory tree to crack some nuts. They soon
saw two men coming towards them, one of whom had a bridle in his hand. Being
dressed like white men, they mistook them for their father and an uncle, in search of
horses. When they discovered their mistake, and attempted to run off, the Indians,
pointing their guns at them, told them to stop or they would kill them. They halted,
and were taken prisoners.

The Indians, being in pursuit of horses, conducted the boys by a circuitous route over
the Short creek hills in search of them, until late in the evening, when they halted at a
spring in a hollow place, about three miles from the fort. Here they kindled a small
fire, cooked and ate some victuals, and prepared to repose for the night. Henry, the
youngest of the boys, during the ramble had affected the greatest satisfaction at having
been taken prisoner. he said his father was a hard master, who kept him always at
hard work, and allowed him no play; but that for his part he wished to live in the woods
and be a hunter. This deportment soon brought him into intimacy with one of the Indians,
who could speak very good English. The Indians frequently asked the boys if they
knew of any good horses running in the woods. Some time before they halted, one of
the Indians gave the largest of the boys a little bag, which he supposed contained money,
and made him carry it.

When night came on the fire was covered up, the boys pinioned, and made to lie down
together. The Indians then placed their hoppis straps over them, and lay down, one on
each side of them, on the ends of the straps. Pretty late in the night the Indians fell
asleep; and one of them becoming cold, caught hold of John in his arms, and turned
him over on the outside. In this situation, the boy, who had kept awake, found means
to get his hands loose. He then whispered to his brother, made him get up, and untied
his arms. This done, Henry thought of nothing but running off as fast as possible; but
when about to start, John caught hold of him, saying, "We must kill these Indians before
we go." After some hesitation, Henry agreed to make the attempt. John then
took one of the rifles of the Indians, and placed it on a log, with the muzzle close to the
head of one of them. He then cocked the gun, and placed his little brother at the breech,
with his finger on the trigger, with instructions to pull it as soon as he should strike the
other Indian.

He then took one of the Indian's tomahawks, and standing astride of the other Indian,
struck him with it. The blow, however, fell on the back of the neck and to one
side, so as not to be fatal. The Indian then attempted to spring up; but the little fellow
repeated his blows with such force and rapidity on the skull, that, as he expressed
it, "the Indian lay still and began to quiver." At the moment of the first stroke given
by the elder brother with the tomahawk, the younger one pulled the trigger, and shot
away a considerable portion of the Indian's lower jaw. This Indian, a moment after
receiving the shot, began to flounce about and yell in the most frightful manner. The
boys then made the best of their way to the fort, and reached it a little before daybreak.
On getting near the fort they found the people all up and in great agitation on their account.
On hearing a woman exclaim, "Poor little fellows, they are killed or taken
prisoners!" the oldest one answered, "No, mother, we are here yet."

Having brought nothing away with them from the Indian camp, their relation of what
had taken place between them and the Indians was not fully credited. A small party
was soon made up to go and ascertain the truth or falsehood of their report. This party
the boys conducted to the spot by the shortest route. On arriving at the place, they
found the Indian whom the oldest brother had tomahawked, lying dead in the camp: the
other had crawled away, and taken his gun and shot-pouch with him. After scalping
the Indian, the party returned to the fort; and the same day a larger party went out to
look after the wounded Indian, who had crawled some distance from the camp and concealed
himself in the top of a fallen tree, where, notwithstanding the severity of his
wound, with a Spartan bravery he determined to sell his life as dearly as possible. Having
fixed his gun for the purpose, on the approach of the men to a proper distance, he
took aim at one of them, and pulled the trigger, but his gun missed fire. On hearing
the snap of the lock, one of the men exclaimed, "I should not like to be killed by a

dead Indian!" The party concluding that the Indian would die at any rate, thought
best to retreat, and return and look for him after some time. On returning, however,
he could not be found, having crawled away and concealed himself in some other place.
His skeleton and gun were found some time afterwards.

The Indians who were killed were great warriors, and very wealthy. The bag, which
was supposed to contain money, it was conjectured was got by one of the party who went
out first in the morning. On hearing the report of the boys, he slipped off by himself,
and reached the place before the party arrived. For some time afterwards he appeared
to have a greater plenty of money than his neighbors.

The Indians themselves did honor to the bravery of these two boys. After their treaty
with Gen. Wayne, a friend of the Indians who were killed, made inquiry of a man from
Short creek, what had become of the boys who killed the Indians? He was answered
that they lived at the same place with their parents. The Indian replied, "You have
not done right; you should make kings of those boys."