University of Virginia Library

9. CHAPTER IX.
THE FLIGHT AND PURSUIT.

“Gracious heavens!” cried the Colonel, “mount, mount, and
away, or we are lost!” and with desperate exertion, as he spoke,
he vaulted upon the back of the rearing, plunging, and half-mad
steed, which he had only kept within reach by the halter.

The moment the animal felt a weight on his back, he made a
clean spring from the earth, which nearly threw his rider, and finding
himself free at last, darted away like a meteor, bearing directly
for the village, in spite of the Colonel's efforts to change his course.
Already the first two or three huts on the outskirts of the town were
passed, with a velocity that left the Colonel no time for other reflection
than that he was being borne with lightning speed into the
very hands of his enemies, whose yells and screeches of fury made
a horrible din in his ears, and his stout heart quailed as it had never
done before, when another horseman, riding even faster than himself,
brushed against him, and the next moment he found himself
clinging to the mane of his charger, without even so much as a
halter in his hands, and speeding away in a direction that quickly
placed the town, with its pandemoniac orgies, in his rear. Conscious

that his horse was guided by the rider along side of him, it
was not until the last hut of the town had been left at least two
hundred yards behind, that the bewildered Colonel thought of ascertaining
whether he was in the hands of a friend or foe. Then,
to his surprise and shame—shame for his own imprudence and bad
management—he beheld Posetha, sitting erect on his rushing horse,
holding the reins of both halters in his hands, and apparently as
calm as if merely riding out for pleasure. With the hot blood
mounting to his very temples, at the thought of his own inferiority
in such a trying scene, to that of one who had only the barbarous
training of savages—he, too, who had commanded a regiment in
battle, and won honor and renown for his skill and bravery—the
Colonel would have stammered out an apology for his rashness,
and expressed his gratitude in the warmest terms for this second
preservation of his life, and also his admiration of the bold heroism
of his companion, only that his deep emotions choked his utterance,
and kept him silent; and in despair of saying anything, he looked
behind to see what had become of his friends. To his great delight,
he beheld the dusky figures of one after another following
close in the lead of Posetha; and with a feeling of security, even
though he might soon be pursued by a host, he again turned his
attention before him, to note the chances of escape.

The course taken by the guide lay over an undulating country,
partially cleared, and in some places very stony; and the line of
flight, if not deviated from, would strike the Miami about half a
mile above the village, at a point where the hill, forming the eastern
bank of the river, sloped down into the water, and made an easy
ford. As they neared this place, a succession of Indian yells, apparently
from a party at no great distance, led our friends to believe
themselves hotly pursued by mounted savages, who had anticipated
their purpose, and, coming directly up the bank of the river from
the town, were striving to cut them off, or engage them in a deadly
conflict. And their supposition was correct; for a dozen or twenty
of the horses let loose by the Colonel's order, had been caught, and
now bore as many hostile riders, all armed and ferociously eager to
overtake the fugitives. A resistance, under the present circumstances,
was not to be thought of by the latter; for setting aside numbers,
they had not a single musket between them—those taken from the
guard having been thrown away, as so many incumbrances, at the
place of mounting; and knowing flight alone could save them,
they lashed their fiery steeds into a perfect fury, and sped on with
the velocity of the whirling car of modern days.

As Posetha and the Colonel gained the height of the sloping
bank, they espied a number of dark moving objects away to their
left; and it scarcely needed the furious yells which came borne to
their ears, to inform them that these moving bodies were so many
mounted and ferocious enemies. Down the bank they plunged,

and the next moment the cold water, splashing in their faces and
over their persons, told them that their gallant steeds were struggling
across the ford; and plunge, plunge behind them, assured them also
that their friends were close in their rear.

A brief and vigorous floundering in the watery element, which
occasionally dashes over horse and rider, and the foremost fugitives
have gained the opposite bank, up which they urge their panting
and smoking beasts. Another, and another, and still another, and
another follow; and as the last one touches the dry earth, and disappears
into the undergrowth, which here comes down to the water, the
loud yells and splashes behind, warn him of the close proximity of
enemies, and that he has still desperate efforts to make to render
his escape possible. Up the acclivity press the van, the centre, and
rear, to use military terms, and soon the height is gained, and the
foremost find themselves upon a small, level opening, over which
they still urge their horses with the speed of fear and desperation.
They have scarcely gone fifty yards, and the hindermost of the
fugitives is just emerging from the thick copse fringing the plain,
when suddenly, as if they had touched enchanted ground, a horseman
breaks through the covert in every quarter, and bears down
toward the centre; and a loud clear voice shouts, in English:

“Are you friends or foes?”

“Thank God, we are saved!” cried the Colonel, in an exstacy
of joy, which may better be imagined than described; and bidding
Posetha check the fiery horses they rode, he again shouted—“We
are friends, and American soldiers; but our enemies pursue us;
and if you turn to the rear, you will find work to do.”

He was answered by a cheer, and loud congratulations; and at
the same moment the blast of a trumpet went echoing through the
surrounding forest. As if the latter carried magic in its brazen
voice, every horseman darted toward his leader; and scarcely a
minute elapsed, ere a long line was formed, and the thundering
tramp of more than a hundred steeds, as they rushed away together
toward the foe, assured the fugitives that they at least were
safe.

Little aware of the danger before them, the pursuing Indians
toiled up the hill; and then, with yells of furious delight, for they
believed they would soon overtake the fugitives, they burst through
the copse into the opening, to the number of between fifteen and
twenty. But their yells of ferocious joy were suddenly changed to
shrieks of terror, dismay, and agony, when, all unexpectedly, they
found themselves confronted with a body of horsemen, who, instead
of flying from them, greeted them with yells as appalling to their
hearts as ever theirs had been to their intended victims, at the same
time pouring in upon them a murderous fire, and charging with the
whole line. Down went some four or five horses, twice the number
of riders fell to rise no more, while of those that turned to fly, only

some three or four escaped without injury. Wild were the yells of
terror of those who had so late been pursuers, but who were now
in turn pursued, as they rushed down the bank of the river, and
sought to avoid their foes, who, with yells as far resounding as their
own, pressed close upon their heels, and slew without mercy all who
were so unfortunate as to be overtaken.

Maddened with the desire for blood and vengeance, and smarting
under the disgrace which the defeat of St. Clair had so recently
brought upon them, the soldiers, once let loose upon the flying foe,
could not be restrained by the trumpet blast of their commander;
but giving free rein to their worst passions, as well as to their
steeds, they dashed pell-mell across the ford, up the opposite slope,
and down along the stream toward the town, vowing to wash out
the stain of ignominy that was upon them in the life-blood of their
enemies.

But the Indians were prepared to receive them; for a party of
mounted savages, who had been following in the rear of those
closest in pursuit of our friends, and who had just reached the ford
as the affray began on the opposite side, had hurriedly returned to
the village, and reported that a large body of whites had killed their
friends, and were fast coming down upon the town. Great was the
alarm and confusion this intelligence created; and amidst the universal
and appalling cry of, “The Shemanoes! the Shemanoes,”[1]
the women and children were hurried off in one direction, while the
warriors, headed by the renowned Black Hoof, formed an ambuscade
in another, just above the village, at a point where it was most
likely the attack would be made.

In this ambuscade the foremost of the daring soldiers ran; and
their lives paid for their temerity; but the hot valor of those behind
suddenly cooling at this unlooked for reception, they were wise
enough to show the enemy the tails of their horses, and make the
heels of the latter save them. Fast as they had ridden toward the
town, they now rode as fast away from it; and it was not until the
Miami rolled between them and their half-naked foes, that they began
to feel their safety regained, and their courage revived.

The loud blast of a trumpet now summoned them around their
commander, Major Moultrie, who, with most of his officers and a
prudent few, had not been rash enough to follow them; and in the
presence of Colonel Danforth and his party, he gave them such a
severe reprimand for their disobedience and fool-hardiness, that the
most forgetful one among them remembered it to the day of his
death.

“And now, Colonel Danforth,” said the gallant Major, turning
with military deference toward the veteran officer,—“with the hope
that the Indians and myself together have succeeded in beating a

little hard sense into heads where it so recently was sadly wanting,
—I tender you my command, as my superior in ability as well as
rank.”

“I thank you kindly, Major Moultrie,” replied the Colonel; “and
am happy in saying, that the ability you deprecate, in my favor,
more than equalizes the trifling distinction our commissions make;
and therefore I shall beg leave to decline your flattering offer, assuring
you, at the same time, it will afford me pleasure to join
your ranks as a volunteer, at least until my wife and daughter be
placed in safety.”

“Yes, yes—the poor prisoners—we must set about their release
immediately. You say they are confined in a cave near the
town?”

“So says Posetha here, and that he alone succeeded in getting
them there some two or three hours since, where, unless accidentally
discovered, they will remain in safety.”

“I do not know,” returned the Major, shaking his head; “no
retreat in this quarter can be long safe from the prying eyes of
savages. I will just run over my men, and ascertain how many
poor fellows are missing, and then the Indian here shall guide us to
the rescue; but wo to him if he play us false!”

It may be proper to explain to the reader, in as few words
as possible, before proceeding further with our narrative, how it
chanced that our friends had the good fortune to be reinforced by
such a body of soldiers. It will be recollected that at the time of
the former being taken prisoners, Sergeant Bomb and two scouts
made their escape, and, we hardly need add, made the best of their
way to Fort Jefferson, which they reached on the following day, in
a state of complete exhaustion. Here they found Major Moultrie,
with a detachment of cavalry, on his way to the scene of St. Clair's
recent disaster; and on informing him what had taken place—how
Colonel Danforth and several other officers were supposed to be
prisoners—he decided at once on going to their rescue. As soon
as his men and horses were sufficiently rested, he set off, with one
of the garrison to act as guide, the scouts and Bomb being too
much fatigued with their recent exertions to think of returning.
Night fell ere half his journey was accomplished; but still he determined
to hold on, in the hope that by reaching the Piqua settlement
before daylight, he could effect his purpose by a coup de main,
without his numbers being known. Fortunately for our friends, he
reached the opening where we first discovered him, just as the
alarm was sounded in the village; and not knowing what it meant,
he waited to see. The yells of the pursuing Indians were every
moment heard more distinctly, as they drew nearer, and a few of
the party conjectured that the prisoners had by some means got
away, and were making their escape. This the Major could hardly
believe possible; but whether true or not, he knew his best plan

would be to conceal his men, and await the result. He soon heard
them crossing the ford below, and rightly conjectured they would
pass through the opening. The rest is known to the reader.

After counting his men, the Major said, in a feeling tone:

“Alas! there are six of my soldiers missing, and I fear the worst
has befallen them. Oh! that they had heeded my orders. Men,”
he continued, sternly, addressing the whole company, “you see
what a calamity your rashness has brought upon us! Henceforth
you must obey me; the first that disobeys, I will have court-martialed
and punished. Come, we must be on the move, or morning
will break ere our purpose be accomplished.”

As the cavalcade was about setting forward, under the guidance
of Posetha, Colonel Danforth exclaimed:

“But were is Edward? where is Major Allen?”

Where was he, sure enough? It was now for the first time discovered,
owing to the excitement and confusion which had prevailed,
that he was missing; and further anxious inquiry elicited
the startling truth, that he had not been seen since his friends
crossed the ford. The agony of the Colonel at this revelation was
terrible; and fairly wringing his hands, he exclaimed, in a voice
tremulous with emotion:

“Oh! my poor boy! my Edward!—alas! he is lost. In the
moment of triumph, I am again plunged in despair. Oh, God! be
merciful, and restore me my friends!” and bowing his head in his
hands, he gave vent to his grief in choking sobs.

A search was now instituted on both sides of the ford; but no
traces of the missing one were found; and after half an hour spent
in this manner, Major Moultrie recalled his men, and declared if
the females were to be set at liberty before daylight, there was not
a moment to loose. The cavalcade was accordingly put in motion,
and moved slowly down the western bank of the river, or that opposite
the Indian town, the Colonel riding along side the Major in
gloomy silence. Even the hope of soon recovering his wife and
daughter, was hardly sufficient to compensate him for the loss of one
whom he looked upon as a son, and for whom he felt all the warm
affection of a father. He thought, too, what would be poor Lucy's
feelings, when she should hear the sad news, and his grief redoubled
at the prospective of hers.

When nearly down to the town opposite, Posetha pointed across
the river, and said the captives were there. He then requested the
Major to keep his forces where they were, and he would go alone
and return with the females. At first Moultrie seemed inclined to
object to this arrangement; but on being assured by all the late
captives, that he need have no fears of the fidelity of Posetha,
he gave his assent, and the latter immediately plunging into
the river, which here ran deep, disappeared on his important mission.

Half an hour of anxious, and, to a few, agonising suspense
passed, and then the faithful Posetha made his appearance. But
alas! he came alone, to report that the females were gone, and that
it was his belief the Indians had discovered their retreat and re-taken
them.

“Oh God!” groaned the Colonel—“this is too much—too much!
My wife! my daughter! my Edward!” and he wept, as brave
soldiers sometimes weep.

“By the ashes of my father!” cried Moultrie, indignantly—“I
will have vengeance on these red blood-hounds, and they shall restore
the captives unharmed, or their town shall be a heap of smoking
ruins! To horse, men—to horse! and be prepared to do your
duty as soldiers!”

We must now return to Edward, and see what strange adventures
have befallen him.