Reinforcements reach Bryan’s Station—Unwise counsel rules the leaders—Boone’s warning is not heeded—The force starts in pursuit of the Indians—“All who are not cowards, follow me!”—The terrific fight on the banks of the Licking—The whites are beaten and dispersed—Israel Boone is wounded and falls—The father’s fierce fight for his son—Boone and Hardy swim to safety—Reynolds’ heroic rescue of his captain—His capture and dashing escape—Colonel Logan arrives with reinforcements—But the Indians escape to their own country—Boone and Hardy revisit the scene of carnage—The blackest day in Kentucky’s history.

Thanks to the timely warning of Hardy Goodfellow, and the expedition employed in spreading the news, information of the attack upon Bryan’s Station quickly reached every settlement within sixty miles of that place. The day after the retreat of the Indians, reinforcements began to come in from various directions. Before the fall of night one hundred and eighty-two men were mustered in the fort. Daniel Boone arrived with a strong party from Boonesborough, which included his brother Samuel and his son Israel. The latter had been almost a baby when the family lived in Clinch Valley and had only recently come into his backwoods heritage of rifle and axe. Colonel Stephen Trigg brought in a force of men from Harrodsburg, and Colonel John Todd an additional levy from Lexington. This party included Majors Harlan, McGary, McBride, and Levi Todd. A considerable proportion of the newcomers were mounted.

Colonel Todd, as senior officer present, assumed command of the entire forces. Early in the afternoon a council of officers was held. The deliberations were far from cool, and the opinions expressed were of the most contradictory character. The majority, however, agreed in advocating immediate pursuit. This proposal met with the approval of Colonel Todd, although it was not consistent with his reputation for prudence and circumspection.

Colonel Todd’s decision is believed to have been influenced by a rather selfish and short-sighted consideration. A messenger had arrived with the tidings that Colonel Benjamin Logan had raised a body of four hundred and fifty men and would hurry forward with them. A proper soldierly spirit would have prompted the commander to wait for this reinforcement, but he and others seem to have been jealous of Logan, whose reputation as a leader was growing apace. It is said that the determination to advance at once was largely due to a hope that Logan might be shut out of participation in the affair.

Colonel Boone had not been present during the long wrangle between the leading officers. With them, he had gone out to the late camp of the Indians, immediately on arriving at Bryan’s, but, unlike them, he had not contented himself with a cursory survey of the surroundings. Whilst the officers were debating, Boone and Hardy were engaged in a careful examination of the ground occupied by the warriors on the previous night and the trace left by them in their retreat.

The first thing noticed by Boone was that the fires in the camp had been very few, indicating a desire on the part of the Indians to create the impression that their numbers were less than was actually the case. Such deception was not consistent with flight in fear, because it courted pursuit.

No attempt had been made to cover the trail, or disguise the direction taken by the war-party. On the contrary, their path was plainly marked and strewn with a variety of articles. These signs were readily accepted by the less experienced as evidences of a hurried and panic-spurred retreat. But Boone discerned in them a very thin deception, designed to draw the whites to their destruction. Indeed, the entire tactics of the Indians on this occasion were such as they commonly resorted to, and no backwoods officer claiming any degree of experience should have been outwitted by them.

When Boone returned to the fort, after having followed the Indian trail for several miles, the council had arrived at its conclusion and preparations were on foot to act upon it without delay. Nevertheless, Colonel Todd was anxious to have the opinion of the man whom all acknowledged—secretly, at least—to be superior to themselves in knowledge of the Indians.

“Well, what do you think, Boone?” the commander asked, accosting the pioneer as he entered the stockade.

“Why, Todd, it’s as clear a case of hocus-pocus as ever I saw. It isn’t a trace they’ve left. It’s a road marked with sign-posts every few yards. They’re afraid that we might miss ’em and they’ve actually blazed the trees. They’re headed for the Blue Licks. You know the lay of the country thereabouts, Todd. We’re invited to walk into an ambush just as plainly as if they had put it in a printed paper.”

This was a long speech for Boone and there was no mistaking its purport. Todd was visibly disconcerted. Like every other leader in Kentucky, he had learned to value Boone’s opinions highly. However, he had not the moral courage to adopt the course which his secret judgment told him was the proper one. It must be remembered, too, that the control of backwoods levies by their officers depended upon the most slender thread of discipline. A large proportion of the men assembled at Bryan’s were volunteers who might decline to act further if thwarted in their wishes.

“I’ve no doubt you are right, Boone, but my officers seem set on going forward at once,” said Todd, weakly. “And, if we don’t get on their trace soon, the Indians may get away from us.”

“They won’t get away from you, Todd; never fear,” answered Boone, with a grim smile, as he turned to assemble his men for the march.

Boone was a loyal subordinate. After having expressed himself to his commander, he had no further word to say on the subject until again appealed to. He briefly informed his men that the orders were to pursue the enemy without delay, and he saw to it that they were ready and in their places when the column formed.

Colonel Todd marched out of the stockade at Bryan’s Station, before dark, at the head of one hundred and eighty men. The force pushed on with all possible speed and on the morning of the third day, after having travelled forty miles, reached the bluffs of the Licking, opposite the lower Blue Licks.

The country round about was unusually wild and rugged. The licks had been for ages the resort of buffalo and other animals which cropped the surrounding herbage, and the rains had washed the ground clear of soil, leaving bare rocks over a large area. At this point, the river curved southward, forming a U-shaped loop. Through the centre of the enclosed area ran a ridge and from either side of it a ravine extended down to the river. Each of these ravines was filled with thick brushwood, affording ideal cover.

As the band of frontiersmen approached the place, several Indians were seen marching over the ridge. They took a leisurely survey of the whites and disappeared.

On the bank of the river, Colonel Todd ordered a halt and again went into consultation with his chief officers. He sought another expression from Boone, and this time it was delivered in the presence of all the leaders.

Boone was quite familiar with the country in which they were. Many a time he had hunted in it, and here he had been taken prisoner by the Shawnees in 1778. It was, as he explained to his companions, admirably suited for an ambuscade, and he expressed his opinion that Girty’s force was even now secreted somewhere in the neighborhood. He reminded the officers that the trace had led so pointedly to the spot on which they stood that it was impossible to escape the conclusion that the Indians had wished to lure them to it.

In conclusion, Boone said frankly that he considered their situation a precarious one. He believed that it would be hazardous to advance and that the prudent course would be to await the arrival of Logan, who could not be more than a day’s march distant. If, however, it was decided upon to cross the river, he would advise a division of the force, one half being sent round to approach the ravines from the rear, whilst the other made a direct attack upon the enemy, whom he strongly suspected of being concealed there.

Colonel Boone’s calm statement made a noticeable impression on his hearers and it is probable that his advice would have been followed but for the insubordinate action of a hot-headed officer. Boone had hardly finished speaking when Major McGary shouted:

“All who are not cowards, follow me! I will show you where the redskins are.” With that he raised the war-whoop and urged his horse into the river.

The men, who had impatiently awaited the conclusion of the conference and could not have known that McGary’s action was entirely unauthorized, rushed in a body after him and, of course, the officers were obliged to fall in with the movement. By the time the force reached the other side, discipline was once more restored and Colonel Todd ordered a halt. Retreat was now out of the question, for in case the enemy lay hid on the peninsula they would descend upon the rear of the whites recrossing the stream and cut them to pieces.

But before advancing, Colonel Todd, at the suggestion of Boone, sent forward two scouts with instructions to carefully examine the country on each side of the trace which led over the ridge. The scouts performed the hazardous service in safety. They passed along the ridge to the head of the loop and returned without having seen an Indian.

The order to march was given, fifteen men under Major Harlan forming the advance guard. Colonel Todd commanded the centre, Colonel Trigg the right, and Colonel Boone the left. The vanguard had passed the ravines and the main body was within forty yards of them, when five hundred Indians suddenly issued and fired a withering volley into the surprised frontiersmen.

A terrific combat ensued. A more disadvantageous position than that in which Colonel Todd’s force found itself could hardly be imagined. Across their front stretched the Indians. On every other side the river enveloped them. They made a gallant stand, however, until the greatest havoc had been wrought in their ranks.

The advance guard was quickly surrounded by savages. Major Harlan and his men fought desperately until he and twelve of them fell covered with wounds. The other three contrived to make their way through the horde of howling redskins and escaped by continuing onward over the ridge and into the country beyond the loop in which the battle raged.

Colonel Trigg and many of the Harrodsburg men fell under the fierce onslaught, and shortly afterwards Colonel Todd received a mortal wound and was seen to fall from his horse. Only Boone, on the left, was holding his own. But when the right crumbled up and the men in the centre, dismayed by the death of their commander, began to give way, the situation of Boone’s force became precarious.

Seeing the disruption of the ranks, the Indians now rushed forward with uplifted tomahawks, uttering the most fiendish yells. Two-thirds of the troops broke into flight and made for the ford, with the redskins in close pursuit. Boone strove to keep his men together, urging them to retreat in a compact body and to present a front to the enemy. The calm demeanor of the pioneer influenced his men for a while after all the others had broken into disorderly rout, but unfortunately Boone’s horse, which had been wounded some time before, suddenly fell to its knees, bringing the rider to the ground. The men, imagining that their leader was killed, immediately took to flight.

When Boone gained his feet, his son Israel and Hardy Goodfellow alone of all his followers were beside him. Savages were advancing from every side, and down at the ford a raging mass of humanity contested the passage. Boone was an indifferent swimmer, but he instantly decided that the best chance of safety for his little party depended upon taking to the stream at its nearest point.

Boone and his young companions turned towards the bank on the western side of the loop. They had progressed but a short distance when five savages attempted to intercept them. Two of these lacked firearms. The aim of the white men was directed at the others, two of whom fell, when Boone and Hardy rushed upon the remaining three with drawn tomahawks. The redskins fled without awaiting the attack, and when Boone turned it was to see his son stretched upon the ground. Israel had received a bullet in his breast.

Without waiting to reload his rifle, Boone picked the boy up in his arms and resumed the road to the river. They were nearing the bank when three Indians came down upon them. One of these Hardy disposed of when they were within twenty yards, but the other two continued to advance. They were extremely big men and unusually courageous. Armed only with their tomahawks they rushed upon the whites without faltering.

Boone laid the boy upon the ground. His form was convulsed in the agonies of death. As the father rose erect his face was calm and his lips close-set, but a tempest raged in his heart. Hardy stood transfixed by the awful gleam of the eyes. Thus he had never seen the man before, nor ever did again.

Boone drew his tomahawk and turned on the savages, who were now almost within arm’s length. He sprang at them like a panther robbed of its whelps. His weapon whizzed through the air and buried itself in the skull of the foremost. Springing aside he avoided a blow from the tomahawk of the second savage, and the next instant gripped his throat and bore him to the ground.

Hardy ran to the spot and raised his tomahawk but, as he was about to strike, Boone glanced up, and at his look Hardy dropped his arm. The Indian was a powerful man, but in the hands of the grief-stricken father he was as a child. Boone struck the savage’s head upon the rocks until he was stunned, and then drew his knife and plunged it into his heart.

This whirlwind combat had occupied less time than it takes to tell, but when Boone turned again to his son the boy was dead. The father looked around. From three directions new enemies were approaching. There was nothing for it but to leave Israel’s body to be mutilated by the savages.

Together, Boone and Hardy gained the bank and, plunging into the river, succeeded in reaching the other side in safety. They were almost the last to leave the battle-field, and by the time they landed upon the south side of the Licking the expiring flames of the fatal fight were flickering out.

Half of the force that rashly pursued Girty’s warriors lay dead upon the peninsula or at the ford. There the carnage had been fearful and would have been much worse but for the presence of mind of a man named Netherland, who on a former occasion had been taxed by his companions with cowardice. With twelve or fifteen other horsemen, Netherland crossed the river. The others were about to consult their own safety by riding off, when Netherland called upon them to halt and protect their comrades by firing upon the Indians. They did so, with the result of enabling many to escape who would otherwise have been slain.

Among many acts of conspicuous bravery that marked that day, was a deed of daring performed by young Reynolds, who had taunted Girty at Bryan’s. Reynolds was making a retreat on horseback to the ford when he overtook Captain Patterson staggering along under a painful wound. A party of Indians were close behind, but the young man stopped and dismounted, insisting upon the officer taking his place in the saddle.

When he had seen the wounded man safely mounted, Reynolds ran to a place below the ford and swam to the other side of the river. He was, however, pursued by a band of Indians and captured. After a while the redskins left him in the hands of one of their number and started in pursuit of other victims. Seizing a favorable opportunity, Reynolds knocked his captor down with his fist and escaped. When he arrived at Bryan’s it was to find Captain Patterson there.

The fugitives from the Blue Licks met Colonel Logan and his reinforcement on the way to the scene of action. Boone and Hardy returned with them. A forced march was made to the battle-field, but when they arrived there was no sign of the Indians. It was almost certain that they had made a rapid retreat to their own country and so Colonel Logan dismissed his men.

The Battle of the Blue Licks impressed Boone, perhaps, more than any other incident of his life. In after years the mere mention of it brought tears to his eyes.