Colonel Bowman heads an expedition against the Indians—The attempted surprise of Chillicothe—Somebody blundered—A bungling retreat—A skirmish in the forest—Death of Blackfish, the Shawnee chief—General Clark takes command of the military forces—The Indians, reinforced by artillery, invade Kentucky—Ruddle’s and Martin’s Stations are captured—And their people carried away to the Indian country—Clark retaliates by attacking the Shawnee villages—Boone returns with his family—Hardy is permitted to take up the life of the scout—Squire Boone is slain by the savages.

Whilst Kenton was unable to report positively as to the conclusion of the Indian council at Micmacto, his information, combined with that derived from the rescued woman, pointed to a strong probability that the Shawnees meditated a serious onslaught at an early date. Colonel Bowman, in charge of the expedition that had been preparing for some weeks past, determined to start immediately, in the hope of being able to attack Chillicothe before the tribesmen could gather for the invasion of Kentucky.

On an early day in July, three hundred men marched for the Indian stronghold. Colonel Bowman was in chief command and had under him Captains Harrod and Logan. The force made rapid progress and, in less than a week’s time after starting, arrived at Chillicothe without the enemy having gained any knowledge of their approach. Bowman halted his men at the distance of about a mile from the town and arranged a plan of action with his officers. Logan was instructed to take half the force and proceed round the town westward, forming a cordon of investment. Bowman undertook to perform a similar operation in the opposite direction and to meet his lieutenant on the other side of the place. Just before dawn the town was to be assaulted.

Logan set out shortly after midnight and executed his orders with admirable precision. An hour before dawn his men were placed under cover enveloping one half of the town. Time wore on but failed to bring Bowman. At length day broke and the village was soon astir but still no sign of his commander relieved the anxious Logan. Presently a dog, straying on the outskirts of the town, scented one of the men in ambush and set up a persistent barking. A warrior started for the spot to investigate the cause of the animal’s excitement. The concealed backwoodsman fired, in violation of his instructions, and in an instant confusion reigned, not only in the village but also in the ranks of the attackers.

It was now broad daylight and many men who sprang from their cover on the alarm were plainly visible to the warriors and revealed to them the fact that an attack in force was in progress. The squaws and children went scuttling into the woods and the men, hastily picking up their arms, ran into the council-house, which stood on an elevated spot at one end of the square. The movement was performed with such unanimity that it was clearly a prearranged resort for such an emergency.

Logan now advanced his men and took possession of the deserted cabins upon the west side of the square. Under the instructions of their leader they quickly formed the doors and other suitable material into shields and under cover of them began to advance upon the Indian stronghold. Most of the force were in the middle of the square, whilst others were creeping up behind the cabins, when Bowman issued the order to retire. Logan was amazed and his men were reluctant to obey. However, the commander repeated the order in such peremptory terms that there was no questioning it.

The backwoodsmen had little discipline and no formation. When they retreated each man looked out for himself, and the movement was always characterized by disorder and often by unnecessary loss. In this case the men under Logan were at a distinct disadvantage. They had advanced into the open to make an attack, and now there was nothing for it but to throw down their breastworks and run. This they did, whilst the Indians rained bullets upon them. Several lives were lost before the force was once more united in the forest to the south of the town.

But this was only the beginning of a disgraceful rout that strikingly exemplified the manner in which a body of brave men will go to pieces in the hands of an incompetent commander. Nearly three hundred men commenced a retreat in the face of not more than forty savages. The Indians, under Blackfish, hung upon the rear and flanks of Bowman’s party and picked off men at their leisure and without danger to themselves. At length Bowman ordered a halt and turned to face the pursuers.

Here was committed another of the series of blunders. After traversing a stretch of the densest forest and undergrowth, the party was brought to a stand just beyond it in comparatively open ground. The situation gave the assailants even a greater advantage than they had enjoyed whilst the force was on the march. A considerable proportion of the whites could not secure adequate cover, whilst the redskins kept up their fire without in the least exposing themselves. Bowman seemed to be incapable of direction and the men were verging upon panic. An overwhelming disaster would doubtless have ensued had not Logan and Harrod, followed by Kenton, Hardy, and half a dozen others, mounted the pack-horses and charged through the neighboring forest in every direction, dislodging the lurking savages.

The turn of affairs aided the disconcerted whites to regain their self-possession, and they turned upon the Indians with something like their wonted energy and intelligence. As the redskins ran from cover before the horsemen, many of them were brought down by the rifles of the backwoodsmen, and when one of the bullets found a billet in the heart of Blackfish, the Shawnees fled from the field of the action.

It is impossible to explain the bungling conduct of the commander of this expedition. Attempts have been made, with indifferent success, to exculpate Bowman. He was a man of proved courage, had a good military record and had served with credit under Clark in the Illinois campaign, but he returned to Kentucky on this occasion with a shattered reputation.

Bowman’s feeble incursion to the Indian country was not calculated to have the effect for which it was designed. The death of Blackfish, however, induced the Indians to postpone the expedition into Kentucky that had been contemplated. But they were eager for revenge and sought the aid of the British in an attack upon the settlements, which was timed to take place in the following spring. The authorities at Detroit were smarting under a sense of humiliation occasioned by Clark’s success at Vincennes, and they readily fell in with the proposition of the Shawnees. Arrangements were made for the despatch of a joint force against the hated Kentuckians.

In the year 1779, numbers of bona fide settlers came into Kentucky and some thirty time-expired men, who had been with Clark in Illinois, returned. The newcomers scattered over a wide area, many stations being planted south and west of the Kentucky River from Boonesborough to Louisville, and upon the forks of the Licking. Early in the year Lexington was provided with a blockhouse and “three rows of cabins.” A few months later Bryan’s Station was established at a point about five miles northeast of Lexington. Kentucky was thus in a much better condition to defend itself than it had been the year before, as might be inferred from the fact of Bowman being able to muster three hundred riflemen for a raid, whereas Boone could gather but seventy to repel the attack upon Boonesborough.

Shortly after this time, Kentucky was divided into three counties. General Clark was in command of the entire territory. He had the rank of brigadier-general and held his headquarters at Fort Nelson, where the city of Louisville now stands. John Todd was the colonel commanding in Lincoln County, which contained Boonesborough, with Daniel Boone as lieutenant-colonel.

These changes had not, however, taken place in the spring of 1778; otherwise it is more than probable that a greater state of preparedness against attack would have existed. Boone had not yet returned. Bowman was still in command of the militia, and the settlers seem to have entertained no apprehensions of reprisals on the part of the Indians. The awakening was rude and sudden and the escape from dire disaster entirely a matter of good fortune.

In May, six hundred Indians assembled at Detroit preparatory to the expedition against the Kentucky settlements. At the close of the month they took up the march, reinforced by a body of French-Canadians under Colonel Byrd. The numerical strength of the force was unusually great, but it was rendered especially formidable by the addition of two field-pieces. The transportation of this artillery was a matter of extreme difficulty. The guns and their carriages were first hauled from Detroit to the waters of the Great Miami. They were then floated down that stream to the Ohio; next up the Ohio to the mouth of the Licking, and up that river to a landing place. From this point the invaders were forced to cut a road through the forest for many miles to their ultimate destination.

It is almost incredible that the slow advance of so large a body, accompanied by the most obtrusive operations, should have been accomplished without the knowledge of the settlers. Clearly, there was not a scout out in the direction of the Indian country, although the failure of Bowman’s movement of the previous summer should have suggested the utmost precautions.

On the twenty-second of June the enemy appeared before Ruddle’s Station and took the settlers completely by surprise. It is true that they could not have made an effective defence even though they had received warning of the attack. Stockades were helpless against artillery. But the invading force might have been attacked with good effect whilst on the march and encumbered by its heavy guns.

The garrison realized the futility of resistance, which could only serve to infuriate the savages. The gates were, therefore, thrown open in response to the demand to “surrender at discretion to the arms of his Britannic Majesty.” The Indians rushed into the fort, made its occupants prisoners, and secured all the property worth carrying off.

A few miles distant lay Martin’s Station. This was taken in a similar manner. By this time the savages, who had agreed to spare the lives of the captives, were getting out of hand and beyond the control of the British officer. Already several of the settlers had been tomahawked and scalped. Colonel Byrd now declined to support the Indians in further operations. Thus deprived of the main element of their strength, the chiefs decided to retreat to their own country. Had the campaign been continued with vigor it is conceivable that the whites might have been swept out of Kentucky.

No attempt was made to follow or intercept the victorious Indians. They retired rapidly with their plunder and prisoners. All the adults among the latter were compelled to carry loads, and many of them, especially the women, fell exhausted under their burdens. These were promptly put to death by their captors.

Of the settlers who survived the terrible ordeal of this march, some were dispersed among the Indians, to meet with variously horrible fates and in very few cases to regain their homes. Others, more fortunate, were carried to Detroit, where they were held as prisoners of war until the close of the Revolution.

This affair had a depressing effect upon the settlers, and particularly upon those who were new to the country. It is probable that an exodus would have commenced, but just at this juncture General Clark assumed command and with his characteristic energy and ability put a different complexion upon the situation.

Clark immediately mustered the militia and called for additional volunteers. His splendid reputation insured a ready response, and he was soon at the head of a force of several hundred men, with which he made a rapid march into the Indian country. The expedition was conducted with marked ability and met with the utmost success. Several Indian towns were taken and destroyed and a considerable area laid waste. Some shortsighted writers have characterized these ravages as wanton cruelty, failing to realize that the destruction of the crops and buildings of the Indians was one of the most effective means of keeping their men at home to repair the damage and engage in hunting for the subsistence of their families.

Despite the disasters at Ruddle’s and Martin’s, emigration continued and several new stations were located during the year 1780. For the most part, the newcomers were of a desirable class. They were generally homeseekers and, like the first settlers, inured to the hardships and exigencies of frontier life. In many cases they came down the Ohio and formed settlements in the region between that river and the Kentucky, so that Boonesborough was no longer in the front rank of the defence presented to the Indians. Most of the new settlements were small and weak but they depended upon aid from their neighbors in time of trouble.

In October Boone returned with his family. Not only the settlement for which he was responsible, but the whole country experienced an access of confidence from the presence of this tower of strength. By the people of Boonesborough he was, as always after an absence, welcomed with joy. Hardy and Kenton, who entertained the strongest affection for their leader, were of course delighted to have him with them again. They had much to tell him of their own adventures and of the affairs of the settlers.

Kenton gave what was, perhaps, a somewhat overdrawn account of Hardy’s share in their joint scouting expeditions. Boone expressed as much pleasure as his habitual reticence would permit, and when Hardy begged to be allowed to continue upon the path he had entered under the guidance of Kenton, his foster-father assented. Boone could see no reason why Hardy should not regularly adopt the calling of the scout, for which Kenton declared him to be admirably adapted. It was a time when, next to good leaders, the greatest need of the community was good rangers. And so it was arranged that Hardy should complete his apprenticeship under the tutelage of Kenton.

“I wouldn’t undertake it, Captain,” said the scout, apologetically, “only I suppose that you’ll be tied to the station most of the time. What he learns from me in a twelvemonth won’t amount to as much as you’d teach him in a week.”

“Make him as good a scout as yourself, Si, and he won’t find any betters this side of the Alleghanies,” replied Boone.

Late in the fall, Daniel Boone and his brother Squire went on a hunt in the country to the north of the settlement. One evening they were in camp near the Blue Licks when a party of Indians opened fire upon them from the neighboring brush. Squire fell dead at the first discharge and Daniel Boone sprang to his feet and fled into the forest. He made good headway and after going three or four miles had left his pursuers considerably in the rear, but had not been able to shake off a hound which the savages had set upon his track. At length he stopped and shot the animal, after which his flight was continued without interference.

The death of his brother affected Daniel Boone deeply. They had been companions in many hunting and scouting expeditions. They had shared many dangers and difficulties. Before the entry of settlers Daniel and Squire had spent months alone, exploring the wilds of Kentucky.

In his self-contained way Boone mourned many months for his brother. But this severe blow was soon followed by a heavier one.