Boone sets the defences of Boonesborough in order—He learns of the departure of his family—“You see, they all thought you were dead, Dad”—Boone carries “the war into Africa”—His party have a skirmish with the Indians—The run back to Boonesborough—Blackfish and his warriors appear before the stockade—Parleying and fencing—Boone gains time and sends for relief—Blackfish plans a treacherous manoeuvre—He seeks to beguile the settlers with a false treaty—The trap is laid with skill—But the whites break out of it after a desperate struggle.

Boone appeared in the stockade like one coming from the dead. Nothing had been heard of any of the party captured at the salt licks, and it was generally believed that all had been killed. It was, therefore, with feelings of unbounded joy that the settlers crowded round their regained leader, eagerly demanding his story. But Boone declined, for the present, to satisfy their curiosity. He had more momentous matters in his mind. On entering the fort he had noticed that the defences had been allowed to fall into a condition of neglect and that a general state of unpreparedness for attack prevailed. Weary and hungry as he was, he set about improving affairs before attending to his personal needs and comfort.

He warned the settlers that they might expect the arrival of the Indians in great force within three or four days’ time, and urged upon all the necessity of the utmost exertion in the meanwhile. The women were to busy themselves moulding bullets and the men in repairing the stockade. Three mounted messengers were immediately despatched to the Holston, with a request to Colonel Campbell for reinforcements. Others were sent to Harrodsburg and Logan’s Station on similar errands. Runners began the circuit of the outlying farms to round up all the people belonging to Boonesborough and scouts set off in the direction from which the Indians would approach.

Having taken all the measures immediately possible for the defence of his post, Boone turned towards his cabin. It was characteristic of him that, notwithstanding he missed his family from among the throng that greeted his return, he had made no inquiry for them, although Hardy and Kenton had been the first to welcome him, but had addressed himself at once to the business in hand. Now, as he walked with these two friends across the square, the desire to hear of his loved ones was uppermost in his mind.

“Mother took the children and went back to her father’s place on the Yadkin,” began Hardy, anticipating the question that hung on Boone’s lips. “You see, they all thought you were dead, Dad. But we didn’t. Did we, Kenton?”

“Well, hardly,” replied the scout, with a chuckle. “I kinder thought I’d hear something drop, Captain, in case your hair was raised.”

“Well, if I wasn’t scalped, I was plucked, and that’s the next thing to it,” said Boone, removing his felt hat and displaying his bald pate and scalp-lock to his astonished companions. “I’m a full-blooded Indian, Hardy. Your dad is Sheltowee, the Big Turtle, and he’s apt to go on the rampage any time, so watch out, young man.”

By this time the trio had arrived at Boone’s cabin, but before they could set about their preparations for supper neighbors began to arrive with an abundance and variety of food, prompted equally by a desire to serve their leader and impatient curiosity to hear his story. The party made a hearty meal in the open, and then Boone related to them all that had befallen him since the New Year’s Day on which he set out for the Lower Blue Licks with the band of salt-makers. The tale was long in the telling, for the description of the Indian village and the customs of its inhabitants was new to the auditors. They, in their turn, had many matters of more or less moment to mention to Boone, so that the summer night was far advanced when this man of iron turned to his couch for a much needed rest.

The next day work upon the necessary repairs to the fort was entered into with vigor. From time to time settlers, alarmed by the urgency of the call, came in with their families. Men, women and children were kept busy from early morning until night, for there was work in which all could take some part. When the fourth, and then the fifth, day passed without the appearance of the Indians, there was some inclination to desist, but Boone insisted upon a completion of the preparations without delay, and would not allow any of the men to return to their farms until the fort was in a satisfactory state.

After ten days’ hard labor the stockade was in the most effective condition attainable to resist attack. The line of palisades had been made entire, new gates had been erected, the blockhouses strengthened, double bastions constructed, provisions laid in, and cattle collected. Just before the termination of the task, one of the captives from Chillicothe, who had contrived to escape shortly after Boone left, arrived at the fort. From him it was learned that the war-party, disconcerted by Boone’s escape, had postponed its departure for three weeks, and meanwhile had sent to Detroit for a reinforcement of whites. The latter news was alarming, but it was offset by the consideration that the delay greatly increased the chance of the hoped-for aid from the Holston arriving in time.

Boone now determined to adopt Clark’s tactics of “carrying the war into Africa.” He thought that by arousing the apprehensions of the Indians for the safety of their own towns, he might succeed in diverting the impending attack against Boonesborough, or at least in inducing the leaders of the expedition to detach a portion of their strength for the defence of their country. With this idea, then, he took nineteen men and started on a rapid march for an Indian village on Paint Creek, a branch of the Scioto. Hardy, who was now a full-fledged “gun,” made one of the party.

On the way frequent traces were discovered that indicated that small parties of Indian scouts were abroad in Kentucky, and pointed to unusual preparation for the ensuing expedition. When within four miles of their objective point, Boone’s band suddenly fell in with a force of thirty warriors on the way to Kentucky. The two bodies had approached closely before either discovered the presence of the other, but immediately they did so the men on both sides sprang behind trees and a typical backwoods fight followed.

These guerilla combats always took the form of so many independent duels, each individual acting upon his own responsibility and without direction. Every man singled out an adversary and awaited an opportunity to get a shot at some exposed part of his body. Frequent ruses, such as poking a cap out upon the end of a ramrod, were employed to induce an enemy to show himself. The Indians almost invariably defeated regular troops in this kind of skirmishing. The latter adhered to their accustomed tactics of charging in close order and fell easy victims to the active savages. On the other hand, the backwoodsmen were greatly the superior of the redskins in fighting from cover. Such men as Boone possessed all the cunning and dogged patience of the Indian, whilst vastly excelling him in marksmanship.

In such a case as the present, where the disparity in numbers was not overwhelming, the ultimate issue was a foregone conclusion. After two or three hours of conflict the Indians took advantage of the growing dusk to withdraw, abandoning their horses and baggage. What their loss in killed and wounded was had to be left, as usual, to conjecture. The settlers escaped without any casualties. Immediately after this affair Boone learned, to his dismay, that the war-party from Chillicothe had already set out and was now between him and Boonesborough.

Boone now started for the settlement with all possible speed, his front and flanks guarded by scouts feeling for the large body of Indians which he was striving to overtake. On the third day the Indians were reported to be but a few miles away and immediately in the course of the returning settlers. Boone now made a dÉtour and redoubled his speed. The army of warriors was successfully passed and left behind. The raiders entered Boonesborough, after their three hundred miles’ march, in time to allow the occupants of the fort nearly twenty-four hours’ time for preparation.

The following day the Indian force made its appearance. It consisted of about four hundred warriors, for the most part Shawnees, but including Wyandots, Miamis and Delawares. They were under the command of Blackfish, Boone’s adoptive father. Accompanying the Indians was a small body of French-Canadians led by Captain De Quindre, of the Detroit militia. This formidable battalion marched to within a few hundred yards of the stockade and sent forward a white flag with a demand upon the garrison to “surrender the fort in the name of his Britannic Majesty.”

There were at Boonesborough fewer than seventy males capable of bearing arms, and a number of women and children. Whilst the defences were in good condition and a plentiful supply of ammunition was on hand, the settlers were not fully prepared to resist a protracted siege, such as the present situation promised. There was far from a sufficiency of water stored, and the cattle, which was collected at the time of the first alarm, had been permitted to return to the woods. In fact, a party that had been sent out the previous day to round up and bring in some beeves had not yet returned to the stockade.

Despite these drawbacks and the apparent hopelessness of resistance, Boone did not for an instant entertain the idea of capitulating. Nor did he canvass the opinions of his men, but took it for granted that they were of the same mind as himself. In answer to the summons, however, he declared that the garrison needed time for consideration, and so sure of ultimate success were the assailants that they granted two days’ respite from hostilities. This intermission was employed by the settlers in filling all their water-vessels and in getting the party with the cattle safely within the walls.

At the termination of the truce De Quindre approached the fort for the purpose of receiving the answer of the defenders. Boone had devised a ruse to deceive the Canadian as to the number of men in the place. When De Quindre neared the gate, which was thrown open that he and Boone, with their escorts, might meet just outside of it, the officers perceived seventy backwoodsmen grouped in the foreground, whilst standing about in other distant parts of the square were some thirty more “buckskins.” The latter, however, were women and girls dressed in the clothing of their husbands and fathers.

To the amazement of Captain De Quindre, Boone announced the determination of the garrison to defend the post, at the same time thanking the enemy for the time allowed the defenders for the completion of their preparations. De Quindre was chagrined to realize that he had been tricked but did not evince any resentment and, after a brief consultation with Blackfish, returned to Boone with a fresh proposition. He declared that the attacking party was not in the least desirous of resorting to severity, and that if Boone and a few of the other leading men in the fort would meet the Indian chiefs on the following day, a treaty could be effected upon the most advantageous terms to the settlers.

Boone was quite satisfied that some deception was intended by this proposition, but he readily acceded to it because every day’s delay improved the prospect of relief arriving from the Holston. It was agreed that Boone and eight of his men should go out to a spot about eighty yards from the fort and there confer with a delegation from the Indian camp, both parties to be absolutely unarmed. The truce was to be extended to the termination of this conference.

The commissioners met as agreed but instead of an equal number of Indians, Blackfish appeared attended by eighteen warriors, so that there were two Indians to each white man. Boone took no notice of this early indication of treachery, for he had posted twenty guns in concealment behind the palisades ready for an emergency. A table with writing materials had been brought out, that any agreement which might be arrived at could be inscribed and signed.

Blackfish opened the proceedings with a speech in which he pretended to be moved almost to the point of tears. He professed to be heartbroken at the desertion of his son Sheltowee, and reproached him with ingratitude in leaving the Indians after their kind treatment of him. To this Boone replied that it was but natural that he should cleave to his own people. That he had been allowed no voice in the adoption, and could not justly have been expected to observe it. That he was truly grateful to Blackfish and his tribe for their gentle treatment of him and would wish for nothing better than to be on friendly terms with them. But if they persisted upon attacking the whites, he, Boone, would fight them to the bitter end.

This point having been disposed of, they proceeded to the question of the treaty. On the single condition of the settlers owning allegiance to the King of Great Britain, the Indian chiefs promised to withdraw to their own country and to leave them in peaceful possession of Boonesborough and their property. They did not demand hostages, nor any other pledge of sincerity. The signatures of Boone and his eight companions to a brief agreement embodying the conditions on both sides would be sufficient to secure the retirement of the Indians from Kentucky and the avoidance of future hostilities.

This absurdly liberal proposition bore all the earmarks of a subterfuge. Boone knew full well that these Indians had not been at the trouble of coming fifty leagues for the sole purpose of inducing the allegiance of a band of backwoodsmen to the King of Great Britain. He felt sure that the proposed treaty would be preliminary to some contemplated treachery, and that it would be shortly followed by some act rendering it null and void. He had, therefore, little hesitancy about signing it; and, moreover, he wished to play the game to a stage where its object would become apparent.

Boone, therefore, expressed himself as highly gratified at the liberal terms offered and willing to accept them. The agreement was accordingly drawn up and signed by Boone and the eight men accompanying him, as well as by Blackfish, the other Indians, and De Quindre. Blackfish now appeared to be overjoyed at the happy termination of the affair and suggested that the amicable understanding should be signalized by an old Indian ceremony indicative of friendship. This required that each hand of every one of the whites should be grasped and shaken by an Indian in token of good faith.

Boone perceived the trap involved in this artifice but he was determined that the Indians should have no excuse for the treachery which they clearly contemplated. He agreed to the proposal and two of the redskins advanced on each of the whites and seized his hands and arms. At the same instant, Blackfish shouted: “Go!” and his followers attempted to drag the settlers away. But this was not so easy a task as they had imagined that it would be. A desperate struggle ensued. Boone, Kenton, Montgomery, and Buchanan quickly threw off their assailants and felled them with their fists. They then turned to the assistance of others less strong than themselves. At the same time the rifles in the stockade began to crack and the Indians broke away and fled to cover.

The affair of the treaty had ended as Boone expected from the first that it would, but it was not without good results to the defenders. They had gained one more day and so increased the likelihood of succor. But better still, whilst the parley was in progress a little band of five men from Logan’s had entered the fort and among them Stephen Hancock, one of the best riflemen in Kentucky.

Boone now proceeded without a moment’s delay to assign the men to their several posts in anticipation of the attack which he felt sure would not now long be delayed. Women were also detailed for specific duties at certain points, some to supply food and water to the men, others to load guns, and not a few, in the last resort, to man port-holes.