Francesco Giuseppe Bressani

On the 4th of November, 1791, a force of Americans under General Arthur St. Clair was attacked, near the present Ohio-Indiana boundary line, by about the same number of Indians led by Blue Jacket, Little Turtle, and the white renegade Simon Girty. Their defeat was the most disastrous that ever has been suffered by our arms when engaged against a savage foe on anything like even terms. Out of 86 officers and about 1400 regular and militia soldiers, St. Clair lost 70 officers killed or wounded, and 845 men killed, wounded, or missing. The survivors fled in panic, throwing away their weapons and accoutrements. Such was "St. Clair's defeat."

The utter incompetency of the officers commanding this expedition may be judged from the single fact that a great number of women were allowed to accompany the troops into a wilderness known to be infested with the worst kind of savages. There were about 250 of these women with the "army" on the day of the battle. Of these, 56 were killed on the spot, many being pinned to the earth by stakes driven through their bodies. Few of the others escaped captivity.

After this unprecedented victory, the Indians became more troublesome than ever along the frontier. No settler's home was safe, and many were destroyed in the year of terror that followed. The awful fate of one of those households is told in the following touching narrative of Mercy Harbison, wife of one of the survivors of St. Clair's defeat. How two of her little children were slaughtered before her eyes, how she was dragged through the wilderness with a babe at her breast, how cruelly maltreated, and how she finally escaped, barefooted and carrying her infant through days and nights of almost superhuman exertion, she has left record in a deposition before the magistrates at Pittsburgh and in the statement here reprinted. (Editor.)

On the return of my husband from General St. Clair's defeat, and on his recovery from the wound he received in the battle, he was made a spy, and ordered to the woods on duty, about the 23d of March, 1792. The appointment of spies to watch the movements of the savages was so consonant with the desires and interests of the inhabitants that the frontiers now resumed the appearance of quiet and confidence. Those who had for nearly a year been huddled together in the blockhouses were scattered to their own habitations, and began the cultivation of their farms. The spies saw nothing to alarm them, or to induce them to apprehend danger, until the fatal morning of my captivity. They repeatedly came to our house to receive refreshments and to lodge.

On the 15th of May my husband, with Captain Guthrie and other spies, came home about dark and wanted supper; to procure which I requested one of the spies to accompany me to the spring and spring-house, and William Maxwell complied with my request. While at the spring and spring-house we both distinctly heard a sound like the bleating of a lamb or fawn. This greatly alarmed us and induced us to make a hasty retreat into the house. Whether this was an Indian decoy, or a warning of what I was to pass through, I am unable to determine. But from this time and circumstance I became considerably alarmed, and entreated my husband to remove me to some place more secure from Indian cruelties. But Providence had designed that I should become a victim to their rage, and that mercy should be made manifest in my deliverance.

On the night of the 21st of May two of the spies, Mr. James Davis and Mr. Sutton, came to lodge at our house, and on the morning of the 22d, at daybreak, when the horn blew at the blockhouse, which was within sight of our house and distant about two hundred yards, the two men got up and went out. I was also awake, and saw the door open, and thought, after I was taken prisoner, that the scouts had left it open. I intended to rise immediately, but having a child at the breast, and it being awakened, I lay with it at the breast to get it to sleep again, and accidentally fell asleep myself. The spies have since informed me that they returned to the house again, and found that I was sleeping; that they softly fastened the door and went immediately to the blockhouse, and those who examined the house after the scene was over say that both doors had the appearance of being broken open.

The first thing I knew from falling asleep was the Indians pulling me out of bed by my feet. I then looked up and saw the house full of Indians, every one having his gun in his left hand and tomahawk in his right. Beholding the danger in which I was, I immediately jumped to the floor on my feet, with the young child in my arms. I then took a petticoat to put on, having on only the one in which I slept; but the Indians took it from me, and as many as I attempted to put on they succeeded in taking from me, so that I had to go just as I had been in bed. While I was struggling with some of the savages for clothing, others of them went and took the children out of another bed, and immediately took the two feather beds to the door and emptied them.

The savages immediately began their work of plunder and devastation. What they were unable to carry with them they destroyed. While they were at their work, I made to the door, and succeeded in getting out with one child in my arms and another by my side; but the other little boy was so much displeased by being so early disturbed in the morning that he would not come to the door.

When I got out I saw Mr. Wolf, one of the soldiers, going to the spring for water, and beheld two or three of the savages attempting to get between him and the blockhouse; but Mr. Wolf was unconscious of his danger, for the savages had not yet been discovered. I then gave a terrific scream, by which means Mr. Wolf discovered his danger and started to run for the blockhouse. Seven or eight of the Indians fired at him, but the only injury he received was a bullet in his arm, which broke it. He succeeded in making his escape to the blockhouse. When I raised the alarm, one of the Indians came up to me with his tomahawk as though about to take my life; a second came and placed his hand before my mouth and told me to hush, when a third came with a lifted tomahawk and attempted to give me a blow; but the first that came raised his tomahawk and averted the blow, and claimed me as his squaw.

The commissary, with his waiter, slept in the storehouse near the blockhouse; and, upon hearing the report of the guns, came to the door to see what was the matter; and, beholding the danger he was in, made his escape to the blockhouse; but not without being discovered by the Indians, several of whom fired at him, and one of the bullets went through his handkerchief, which was tied about his head, and took off some of his hair. The handkerchief, with several bullet-holes in it, he afterwards gave to me.

The waiter, on coming to the door, was met by the Indians, who fired upon him, and he received two bullets through the body and fell dead by the door. The savages then set up one of their tremendous and terrifying yells, and pushed forward and attempted to scalp the man they had killed; but they were prevented from executing their diabolical purpose by the heavy fire which was kept up through the portholes from the blockhouse.

In this scene of horror and alarm I began to meditate an escape, and for that purpose I attempted to direct the attention of the Indians from me and to fix it on the blockhouse, and thought if I could succeed in this I would retreat to a subterranean cave with which I was acquainted, which was in the run near where we were. For this purpose I began to converse with some of those who were near me respecting the strength of the blockhouse, the number of men in it, etc., and being informed that there were forty men there, and that they were excellent marksmen, the savages immediately came to the determination to retreat, and for this purpose they ran to those who were besieging the blockhouse and brought them away.

They then began to flog me with their wiping sticks, and to order me along. Thus what I intended as the means of my escape was the means of accelerating my departure in the hands of the savages. But it was no doubt ordered by a kind Providence for the preservation of the fort and the inhabitants in it; for when the savages gave up the attack and retreated, some of the men in the fort had the last load of ammunition in their guns, and there was no possibility of procuring more, for it was all fastened up in the storehouse, which was inaccessible.

The Indians, when they had flogged me away with them, took my oldest boy, a lad about five years of age, along with them, for he was still at the door by my side. My middle little boy, who was about three years of age, had by this time obtained a situation by the fire in the house, and was crying bitterly to me not to go, and making sore complaints of the depredations of the savages. But these monsters were not willing to let the child remain behind them; they took him by the hand to drag him along with them, but he was so very unwilling to go, and made such a noise by crying, that they took him up by his feet and dashed his brains out against the threshold of the door. They then scalped and stabbed him, and left him for dead. When I witnessed this inhuman butchery of my own child I gave a most indescribable and terrific scream, and felt a dimness come over my eyes, next to blindness, and my senses were nearly gone. The savages then gave me a blow across my head and face and brought me to my sight and recollection again. During the whole of this agonizing scene I kept my infant in my arms.

As soon as the murder was effected they marched me along to the top of the bank, about forty or sixty rods, and there they stopped and divided the plunder which they had taken from our house, and here I counted their number and found them to be thirty-two, two of whom were white men painted as Indians. Several of the Indians could speak English well. I knew several of them well, having seen them going up and down the Alleghany River. I knew two of them to be from the Seneca tribe of Indians, and two of them Munsees; for they had called at the shop to get their guns repaired, and I saw them there.

We went from this place about forty rods, and they then caught my uncle John Currie's horses, and two of them, into whose custody I was put, started with me on the horses towards the mouth of the Kiskiminetas, and the rest of them went off towards Puckety. When they came to the bank that descended towards the Alleghany it was so very steep, and there appeared so much danger in descending it on horseback that I threw myself off the horse, in opposition to the will and command of the savages.

My horse descended without falling, but the one on which the Indian rode who had my little boy, in descending, fell and rolled over repeatedly; and my little boy fell back over the horse, but was not materially injured; he was taken up by one of the Indians, and we got to the bank of the river, where they had secreted some bark canoes under the rocks, opposite the island that lies between the Kiskiminetas and Buffalo. They attempted, in vain, to make the horses take the river, and had to leave the horses behind them, and took us in one of the canoes to the point of the island, and there left the canoe.

Here I beheld another hard scene, for as soon as we landed, my little boy, who was still mourning and lamenting about his little brother, and who complained that he was injured by the fall in descending the bank, was murdered. One of the Indians ordered me along, probably that I should not see the horrid deed about to be perpetrated. The other then took his tomahawk from his side, and with this instrument of death killed and scalped him. When I beheld this second scene of inhuman butchery I fell to the ground senseless, with my infant in my arms, it being under and its little hands in the hair of my head. How long I remained in this state of insensibility I know not.

The first thing I remember was my raising my head from the ground and feeling myself exceedingly overcome with sleep. I cast my eyes around and saw the scalp of my dear little boy, fresh bleeding from his head, in the hand of one of the savages, and sank down to the earth again upon my infant child. The first thing I remember, after witnessing this spectacle of woe, was the severe blows I was receiving from the hands of the savages, though at that time I was unconscious of the injury I was sustaining. After a severe castigation, they assisted me in getting up, and supported me when up. The scalp of my little boy was hid from my view, and in order to bring me to my senses again they took me back to the river and led me in knee-deep; this had its intended effect. But, "the tender mercies of the wicked are cruel."

We now proceeded on our journey by crossing the island, and coming to a shallow place where we could wade out, and so arrive at the Indian side of the country. Here they pushed me in the river before them, and had to conduct me through it. The water was up to my breast, but I suspended my child above the water, and, with the assistance of the savages, got safely out. Thence we rapidly proceeded forward, and came to Big Buffalo; here the stream was very rapid and the Indians had again to assist me. When we had crossed this creek, we made a straight course to the Connoquenessing Creek, the very place where Butler, Pa., now stands; and thence we travelled five or six miles to Little Buffalo, which we crossed.

I now felt weary of my life, and had a full determination to make the savages kill me, thinking that death would be exceedingly welcome when compared to the fatigue, cruelties, and miseries I had the prospect of enduring. To have my purpose effected I stood still, one of the savages being before me, and the other walking behind me, and I took from off my shoulder a large powder-horn they made me carry, in addition to my child, who was one year and four days old. I threw the horn on the ground, closed my eyes, and expected every moment to feel the deadly tomahawk. But to my surprise the Indian took it up, cursed me bitterly, and put it on my shoulder again. I took it off the second time, and threw it on the ground, and again closed my eyes, with the assurance I should meet death; but instead of this, the Indian again took up the horn, and with an indignant, frightful countenance, came and placed it on again. I took it off the third time, and was determined to effect it, and, therefore, threw it as far as I was able from me, over the rocks. The savage immediately went after it, while the one who had claimed me as his squaw, and who had stood and witnessed the transaction, came up to me and said: "Well done; you did right and are a good squaw, and the other is a lazy son-of-a-gun; he may carry it himself."

The savages now changed their position, and the one who claimed me as his squaw went behind. This movement, I believe, was to prevent the other from doing me any injury; and we went on till we struck the Connoquenessing at the Salt Lick, about two miles above Butler, where was an Indian camp, where we arrived a little before dark, having no refreshment during the day. The camp was made of stakes driven into the ground, sloping, and covered with chestnut bark, and appeared sufficiently long for fifty men. The camp appeared to have been occupied for some time; it was very much trodden, and large beaten paths went out from it in different directions.

That night they took me about three hundred yards from the camp, up a run, into a large, dark bottom, where they cut the brush in a thicket and placed a blanket on the ground and permitted me to sit down with my child. They then pinioned my arms back, only with a little liberty, so that it was with difficulty that I managed my child. Here, in this dreary situation, without fire or refreshment, having an infant to take care of, and my arms bound behind me, and having a savage on each side of me who had killed two of my dear children that day, I had to pass the first night of my captivity.

But the trials and tribulations of the day I had passed had so completely exhausted nature that, notwithstanding my unpleasant situation, and my determination to escape, if possible, I insensibly fell asleep, and repeatedly dreamed of my escape and safe arrival in Pittsburgh, and several things relating to the town, of which I knew nothing at the time, but found to be true when I arrived there. The first night passed away and I found no means of escape, for the savages kept watch the whole of the night without any sleep.

In the morning one of them left us to watch the trail we had come, to see if any white people were pursuing us. During the absence of the Indian, the one that claimed and remained with me, and who was the murderer of my last boy, took from his bosom his scalp, and prepared a hoop and stretched the scalp upon it. Those mothers who have not seen the like done to one of the scalps of their own children will be able to form but faint ideas of the feelings which then harrowed up my soul. I meditated revenge! While he was in the very act I attempted to take his tomahawk, which hung by his side and rested on the ground, and had nearly succeeded, and was, as I thought, about to give the fatal blow, when, alas! I was detected.

The savage felt at his tomahawk handle, turned upon me, cursed me and told me I was a Yankee; thus insinuating he understood my intention, and to prevent me from doing so again, faced me. My excuse to him for handling his tomahawk was, that my child wanted to play with the handle of it. The savage who went upon the lookout in the morning came back about twelve o'clock, and had discovered no pursuers. Then the one who had been guarding me went out on the same errand. The savage who was now my guard began to examine me about the white people, the strength of the armies going against the Indians, etc., and boasted largely of their achievements in the preceding fall, at the defeat of General St. Clair.

He then examined the plunder which he had brought from our house the day before. He found my pocket-book and money among his plunder. There were ten dollars in silver and a half-guinea in gold in the book. During this day they gave me a piece of dried venison, about the bulk of an egg, and a piece about the same size the day we were marching, for my support and that of my child; but, owing to the blows I had received from them on the jaws, I was unable to eat a bit of it. I broke it up and gave it to the child.

The savage on the lookout returned about dark. This evening (Monday, the 23d) they moved me to another station in the same valley, and secured me as they did the preceding night. Thus I found myself the second night between two Indians, without fire and refreshment. During this night I was frequently asleep, notwithstanding my unpleasant situation, and as often dreamed of my arrival in Pittsburgh.

Early on the morning of the 24th a flock of mocking-birds and robins hovered over us as we lay in our uncomfortable bed; and sang and said, at least to my imagination, that I was to get up and go off. As soon as day broke, one of the Indians went off again to watch the trail, as on the preceding day, and he who was left to take care of me appeared to be sleeping. When I perceived this I lay still and began to snore, as though asleep, and he also fell asleep. Then I concluded it was time to escape. I found it impossible to injure him for my child at the breast, as I could not effect anything without putting the child down, and then it would cry and give the alarm; so I contented myself with taking, from a pillow-case of plunder stolen from our house, a short gown, handkerchief, and child's frock, and so made my escape; the sun then being about half an hour high.

I struck the Connoquenessing, and went down stream until about two o'clock in the afternoon, over rocks, precipices, thorns, briers, etc., with my bare feet and legs. I then discovered I was on the wrong course, and waited till the North Star appeared. Marking out the direction for the next day, I collected a bed of leaves, laid down and slept, though my feet, being full of thorns, began to be exceedingly painful, and I had nothing for self or babe to eat. The next morning I started early, nothing material occurring. Towards evening a gentle rain came on, and I began to prepare my leaf bed, setting the child down the while, who began to cry. Fearful of the consequences, I put him to the breast and he became quiet. I then listened and distinctly heard footsteps. The ground over which I had travelled was soft and my foot traces had been followed.

Greatly alarmed, I looked about for a place of safety, and providentially discovered a large tree which had fallen, into the top of which I crept. The darkness greatly assisted me and prevented detection. The savage who followed me had heard the cry of the child and came to the very spot where it had cried, and there he halted, put down his gun, and was at this time so near that I heard the wiping stick strike against his gun distinctly. My getting in under the tree and sheltering myself from the rain, and pressing my boy to my bosom, got him warm, and, most providentially, he fell asleep, and lay very still during that time of extreme danger. All was still and quiet; the savage was listening to hear again the cry. My own heart was the only thing I feared, and that beat so loud that I was apprehensive it would betray me. It is almost impossible to conceive the wonderful effect my situation produced upon my whole system.

After the savage had stood and listened with nearly the stillness of death for two hours, the sound of a bell and a cry like that of a night owl, signals which were given to him by his companions, induced him to answer, and after he had given a most horrid yell, which was calculated to harrow up my soul, he started and went off to join them. After his retreat, I concluded it unsafe to remain there till morning.

But by this time nature was so nearly exhausted that I found some difficulty in moving; yet, compelled by necessity, I threw my coat about my child and placed the end between my teeth, and with one arm and my teeth I carried him, and with the other groped my way between the trees and travelled on, as I supposed, a mile or two, and there sat down at the root of a tree till morning. The night was cold and wet, and thus terminated the fourth day-and-night's difficulties, trials, and dangers!

The fifth day, wet, exhausted, hungry, and wretched, I started from my resting-place as soon as I could see my way, and on that morning struck the head-waters of Pine Creek, which falls into the Alleghany about four miles above Pittsburgh; though I knew not then what waters they were; I crossed them, and on the opposite bank I found a path, and on it two moccason tracks, fresh indented. This alarmed me; but as they were before me, and travelling in the same direction as I was, I concluded I could see them as soon as they could see me, and, therefore, I pressed on in that path for about three miles, when I came to where another branch emptied into the creek, where was a hunter's camp, where the two men, whose tracks I had before discovered and followed, had breakfasted and left the fire burning.

I became more alarmed, and determined to leave the path. I then crossed a ridge towards Squaw Run, and came upon a trail. Here I stopped and meditated what to do; and while I was thus musing I saw three deer coming towards me at full speed; they turned to look at their pursuers; I looked too, with all attention, and saw the flash and heard the report of a gun. I saw some dogs start after them, and began to look about for shelter, and immediately made for a large log to hide myself. Providentially I did not go clear to the log; for as I put my hand to the ground, to raise myself so that I might see who and where the hunters were, I saw a large heap of rattlesnakes, the top one being very large, and coiled up very near my face, and quite ready to bite me.

I again left my course, bearing to the left, and came upon the head-waters of Squaw Run, and kept down the run the remainder of that day. It rained, and I was in a very deplorable situation; so cold and shivering were my limbs, that frequently, in opposition to all my struggles, I gave an involuntary groan. I suffered intensely from hunger, though my jaws were so far recovered that, wherever I could, I procured grape-vines, and chewed them for a little sustenance. In the evening I came within one mile of the Alleghany River, though I was ignorant of it at the time; and there, at the root of a tree, through a most tremendous rain, I took up my fifth night's lodgings. In order to shelter my infant as much as possible, I placed him in my lap, and then leaned my head against the tree, and thus let the rain fall upon me.

On the sixth (that was the Sabbath) morning from my captivity, I found myself unable, for a very considerable time, to raise myself from the ground; and when I had once more, by hard struggling, got myself upon my feet and started, nature was so nearly exhausted and my spirits were so completely depressed that my progress was amazingly slow and discouraging. In this almost helpless condition I had not gone far before I came to a path where there had been cattle travelling; I took it, under the impression that it would lead me to the abode of some white people, and in about a mile I came to an uninhabited cabin, and though I was in a river bottom, yet I knew not where I was nor yet on what river bank I had come.

Here I was seized with feelings of despair, went to the threshold of the cabin and concluded that I would enter and lie down and die, since death would have been an angel of mercy to me in such a miserable situation. Had it not been for the sufferings which my infant, who would survive me some time, must endure, I would have carried my determination into execution. Here I heard the sound of a cow-bell, which imparted a gleam of hope to my desponding mind. I followed the sound till I came opposite the fort at the Six Mile Island, where I saw three men on the opposite bank of the river.

My feelings then can be better imagined than described. I called to them, but they seemed unwilling to risk the danger of coming after me, and asked who I was. I told them, and they requested me to walk up the bank awhile that they might see if Indians were making a decoy of me; but I replied my feet were so sore I could not walk. Then one of them, James Closier, got into a canoe to fetch me over, while the other two stood with cocked rifles ready to fire on the Indians, provided they were using me as a decoy. When Mr. Closier came near and saw my haggard and dejected appearance, he exclaimed, "Who in the name of God are you?" This man was one of my nearest neighbors, yet in six days I was so much altered that he did not know me, either by my voice or countenance.

When I landed on the inhabited side of the river the people from the fort came running out to see me. They took the child from me, and now that I felt safe from all danger, I found myself unable to move or to assist myself in any degree, whereupon the people took me and carried me out of the boat to the house of Mr. Cortus.

Now that I felt secure from the cruelties of the barbarians, for the first time since my captivity, my feelings returned in all their poignancy and the tears flowed freely, imparting a happiness beyond what I ever experienced. When I was taken into the house the heat of the fire and the smell of victuals, of both of which I had so long been deprived, caused me to faint. Some of the people attempted to restore me and some to put clothes on me, but their kindness would have killed me had it not been for the arrival of Major McCully, who then commanded along the river. When he understood my situation, and saw the provisions they were preparing for me, he was greatly alarmed; ordered me out of the house, away from the heat and smell; prohibited me from taking anything but a very little whey of buttermilk, which he administered with his own hands. Through this judicious management I was mercifully restored to my senses and gradually to health and strength.

Two of the females, Sarah Carter and Mary Ann Crozier, then began to take out the thorns from my feet and legs, which Mr. Felix Negley stood by and counted to the number of one hundred and fifty, though they were not all extracted at that time, for the next evening, at Pittsburgh, there were many more taken out. The flesh was mangled dreadfully, and the skin and flesh were hanging in pieces on my feet and legs. The wounds were not healed for a considerable time. Some of the thorns went through my feet and came out at the top. For two weeks I was unable to put my feet to the ground to walk. The next morning a young man employed by the magistrates of Pittsburgh came for me to go immediately to town to give in my deposition, that it might be published to the American people. Some of the men carried me into a canoe, and when I arrived I gave my deposition. As the intelligence spread, Pittsburgh, and the country for twenty miles around, was all in a state of commotion. The same evening my husband came to see me, and soon after I was taken back to Coe's Station. In the evening I gave an account of the murder of my boy on the island, and the next morning a scout went out and found the body and buried it, nine days after the murder.

THE END

OUTING
ADVENTURE
LIBRARY

Edited by Horace Kephart

¶ Here are brought together for the first time the great stories of adventure of all ages and countries. These are the personal records of the men who climbed the mountains and penetrated the jungles; who explored the seas and crossed the deserts; who knew the chances and took them, and lived to write their own tales of hardship and endurance and achievement. The series will consist of an indeterminate number of volumes—for the stories are myriad. The whole will be edited by Horace Kephart. Each volume answers the test of these two questions: Is it true? Is it interesting?

¶ The entire series is uniform in style and binding. Among the titles now ready or in preparation are those described on the following pages.

PRICE $1.00 EACH, NET. POSTAGE 10 CENTS EXTRA

THE NUMBERS MAKE ORDERING CONVENIENT

1. IN THE OLD WEST, by George Frederick Ruxton. The men who blazed the trail across the Rockies to the Pacific were the independent trappers and hunters in the days before the Mexican war. They left no records of their adventures and most of them linger now only as shadowy names. But a young Englishman lived among them for a time, saw life from their point of view, trapped with them and fought with them against the Indians. That was George Frederick Ruxton. His story is our only complete picture of the Old West in the days of the real Pioneers, of Kit Carson, Jim Bridger, Bill Williams, the Sublettes, and all the rest of that glorious company of the forgotten who opened the West.

2. CASTAWAYS AND CRUSOES. Since the beginnings of navigation men have faced the dangers of shipwreck and starvation. Scattered through the annals of the sea are the stories of those to whom disaster came and the personal records of the way they met it. Some of them are given in this volume, narratives of men who lived by their hands among savages and on forlorn coasts, or drifted helpless in open boats. They range from the South Seas to the Gulf of St. Lawrence, from the iron coast of Patagonia to the shores of Cuba. They are echoes from the days when the best that could be hoped by the man who went to sea was hardship and man's-sized work.

3. CAPTIVES AMONG THE INDIANS. First of all is the story of Captain James Smith, who was captured by the Delawares at the time of Braddock's defeat, was adopted into the tribe, and for four years lived as an Indian, hunting with them, studying their habits, and learning their point of view. Then there is the story of Father Bressani who felt the tortures of the Iroquois, of Mary Rowlandson who was among the human spoils of King Philip's war, and of Mercy Harbison who suffered in the red flood that followed St. Clair's defeat. All are personal records made by the actors themselves in those days when the Indian was constantly at our forefathers's doors.

4. FIRST THROUGH THE GRAND CANYON, by Major John Wesley Powell. Major Powell was an officer in the Union Army who lost an arm at Shiloh. In spite of this four years after the war he organized an expedition which explored the Grand Canyon of the Colorado in boats—the first to make this journey. His story has been lost for years in the oblivion of a scientific report. It is here rescued and presented as a record of one of the great personal exploring feats, fitted to rank with the exploits of Pike, Lewis and Clark, and Mackenzie.

5. ADRIFT IN THE ARCTIC ICE-PACK, By Elisha Kent Kane, M.D. Out of the many expeditions that went north in search of Sir John Franklin over fifty years ago, it fell to the lot of one, financed by a New York merchant, to spend an Arctic winter drifting aimlessly in the grip of the Polar ice in Lancaster Sound. The surgeon of the expedition kept a careful diary and out of that record told the first complete story of a Far Northern winter. That story is here presented, shorn of the purely scientific data and stripped to the personal exploits and adventures of the author and the other members of the crew.