Thus Occonostota succeeded in the field. But his heart still thirsted for blood, and he found means to gratify his revenge in another quarter. Fort Loudon, (built, like Fort George, on the frontier,) with a garrison of twenty men, was surrounded by the enraged enemy, and reduced to the extremities of famine. Under these circumstances Captain Stuart, a gentleman well known to the Cherokees during a long official and private intercourse with them, obtained leave to go to Choteh, the town of the Great-Warrior,—who was sometimes called "Prince of Choteh." A capitulation was agreed upon with him. The arms of the garrison were surrendered on the faith of it; and they marched out, on their way towards Fort George, under the escort of an Indian detachment headed by the Prince himself. Having gone fifteen miles, they encamped at night near an Indian town. All the escort left them, but still they remained unmolested. At length, about day-break, a guard came running in with intelligence that the woods and bushes around them were full of hideously painted savages, who had already enclosed them. In a moment after, the enemy rushed upon them, and fired, and thirty of their number fell dead. The residue either fled or were captured; and the latter, including Stuart, were pinioned and sent back to Fort Loudon.
And now Attakullakulla came forward. He had taken no part in the war, on either side, but Stuart had been his best friend in former times, and he could not think of seeing him a prisoner and in peril of his life. He hastened to the fort, and purchased him of his Indian master, giving his rifle, clothes, and all he could command as a ransom; and then took him into his own family, and shared with him the provisions which his table afforded.
Occonostota, meanwhile, had formed the design of attacking Fort George, and sent messengers throughout the Cherokee country to collect his warriors for that purpose. At this juncture, a quantity of ammunition was found in Fort Loudon (where the English captives were still confined) which the garrison had buried before leaving it, The discovery had nearly cost Stuart his life, but his protector again rescued him. The Indians, indeed, found occasion for his services. At a great Council held at Choteh, whither he was carried, the warrior told him they had resolved to march against Fort George with a quantity of English cannon, to be managed by men under his (Stuart's) command, and they wished him previously to write letters for them to the Commandant, demanding a surrender. If he refused, they intended to burn his companions, one by one, before his face.
Captain Stuart was now really uneasy in his situation, and he determined from this moment to make his escape or perish in the attempt. He privately communicated his feelings to Attakullakulla, and appealed to his magnanimity. The old Warrior took him by the hand. "Be calm," said he, "be calm, my son; I am your friend—trust me." He went forward, and claimed the Englishman for his prisoner; and then gave out word among his countrymen, that he intended to "go a-hunting" for a few days, and to take his Englishman with him.
They set out together, accompanied by the warrior's wife, his brother, and two others. For provisions they depended on what they might kill by the way. The distance to the frontier settlements was great, and the utmost expedition necessary to prevent any surprise from Indians pursuing them. They traveled nine days and nights through a dreary wilderness, shaping their course for Virginia, by the light and guidance of the heavenly bodies. On the tenth they arrived at the banks of Holstein river; where they fortunately fell in with a party of three thousand men, sent out by Colonel Bird for the relief of such soldiers as might make their escape that way from Fort Loudon.
Here the Chieftain was content to relinquish his charge. He bade his friend farewell, and, as composedly as if the whole transaction were a matter of course, turned back into the wilderness, and retraced his long and wearisome journey.
Such was the issue of the first campaign. The spring of 1761 opened with new efforts on the part of Carolina. A new provincial regiment was raised; fresh reinforcements of regulars arrived from the north; and numbers of the Chickasaw and Catawba Indians were induced to give their assistance—so that, on the 27th of May, an army of two thousand six hundred men mustered at Fort George.
Latinac, a French officer, was at this time among the Cherokees, and he proved an indefatigable instigator to mischief. He persuaded them, that the English would be satisfied with nothing less than to exterminate them, man, woman, and child, from the face of the earth. He gave them arms, too, and urged them to war. At a grand meeting of the nation, he brandished his hatchet, and, striking it furiously into a log of wood, cried out—"Who is the man that will take this up for the King of France? Where is he? Let him come forth!" Saloueh, the young Warrior of Estatoe, instantly leaped forward, laid hold of it, and cried out—"I will take it up. I am for war. The spirits of the slain call upon us; I will avenge them; and who will not? He is no better than a woman that refuses to follow me." Many a fierce look, and many a lifted tomahawk answered the appeal of the Orator, and again did the war-torrent rush down upon the frontiers.
The Great-Warrior too, more a general, and not less a soldier, was again ready for his enemy. They commenced their march into the interior on the 7th of June, and advanced unmolested as far as the well remembered battle-ground of the year previous; but there, the Indian scouts in front observed a large body of Cherokees posted upon a hill on the right flank of the army. Immediately the savages, rushing down, began to fire on the advanced guard, which being supported repulsed them; but they recovered their heights. Colonel Grant ordered a party to march up the hills, and drive the enemy from them. The engagement became general, and was fought on both sides with great bravery. The situation of the troops was in several respects deplorable—fatigued in a tedious march in rainy weather—surrounded with woods so that they could not discern the enemy—galled by the scattering fire of savages who when pressed always fell back, but rallied again and again. No sooner was any advantage gained over them in one quarter than they appeared in another. While the attention of the Commander was occupied in driving the enemy from their lurking-place on the river's side, his rear was attacked, and so vigorous an effort made for the flour and cattle, that he was obliged to order a party back to the relief of the rear-guard. From eight o'clock in the morning until eleven, the savages continued to keep up an irregular and incessant fire, sometimes from one place and sometimes from another, while the woods resounded with hideous war-whoops frequently repeated, but in different directions. At length the Cherokees gave way and were pursued.
Such is the account of this famous engagement given by history. The English lost between fifty and sixty killed and wounded. The loss of the Cherokees was uncertain, as that of an Indian army always is,—they carried off the slain.