Clark made a short visit to Harrodsburg in 1775 and returned in the following year. Long afterwards, General Ray, who in 1776 was a boy of sixteen living at the station established by Colonel Harrod, told the following story of Major Clark’s second arrival in Kentucky:
“I had come down to where I now live (about four miles north of Harrodsburg) to turn some horses in the range. I had killed a small blue-wing duck that was feeding in my spring, and had roasted it nicely on the brow of the hill, about twenty steps east of my house. After having taken it off to cool, I was much surprised on being suddenly accosted by a fine soldierly-looking man, who exclaimed, ‘How do you do, my little fellow? What is your name? Ain’t you afraid of being in the woods by yourself?’
“On satisfying his inquiries, I invited the traveller to partake of my duck, which he did, without leaving me a bone to pick, his appetite was so keen, though he should have been welcome to all the game I could have killed, when I afterwards became acquainted with his noble and gallant soul.”
Having satisfied his hunger, the stranger asked a number of questions about the settlers, the Indians, and the general conditions in the locality. These the boy answered as well as he could and then ventured to ask the name of his guest.
“My name is Clark,” he answered, “and I have come out to see what you brave fellows are doing in Kentucky and to lend you a helping hand if necessary.”
Clark immediately took a leading part in the affairs of the struggling community. His superior talents were so unmistakable and his personality so impressive that he readily inspired the confidence of the Kentucky settlers. At a general meeting, held at Harrodsburg in June, 1775, he had been appointed with another to represent the young community in negotiations with the Assembly of Virginia. The delegates proceeded at once to Williamsburg, where it soon became apparent that their errand could not be accomplished without great difficulty. At the first serious check Clark’s companion returned to Kentucky, but Clark determined to persevere, and by the exercise of diplomacy and persuasion ultimately succeeded in his purpose.
In August the Council, with the approval of Governor Patrick Henry, caused a large quantity of gunpowder to be shipped to Pittsburg and there to be delivered to Major Clark for the use of the Kentucky settlers. At the fall session of the Legislature, the determined soldier, who had now been rejoined by his fellow-delegate, Gabriel Jones, successfully urged the political organization of the new settlement and the bill was passed that created it a county of the State of Virginia. This was an important step, as it secured for the crude commonwealth in the wilderness a judicial and military establishment.
Clark now proceeded to Pittsburg, where the precious powder awaited him and where he entered upon an extremely perilous phase of his mission. The country about Pittsburg swarmed with Indians, who were not only hostile to white men in general but, like all their race at the time, ready to go to any extremes in the effort to secure ammunition. Clark decided that speed and secrecy would serve his purpose more effectively than a strong force which, encumbered and travelling slowly, could be constantly harassed and would be probably cut up before reaching its destination. Accordingly, he quietly embarked with seven sturdy boatmen and commenced a rapid journey down the Ohio.
The Indians almost immediately got wind of the expedition and Clark’s vessel had but an indifferent start when they were in pursuit of it by land and water. The powder escort soon became aware of the pursuit and bent its efforts to out-distancing the redskins, it being no part of the leader’s plan to offer fight, except in the last extremity. Indeed, although they were frequently fired upon from the shores and from the following canoes, Clark forbade his men to retaliate but required them to devote all their care and energies to the preservation of the cargo.
This grim race was maintained until it became evident to Clark that his men could not much longer continue their arduous labor at the oars. The Indians, on the other hand, being subjected to much less strain, might have kept up the pursuit indefinitely. Realizing that the sole chance of success lay in bringing the journey to a speedy end, Clark called on his rowers for a supreme final effort with a view to getting beyond sight of the Indians for a short space of time. The men responded heartily. The boat was then at the mouth of Limestone Creek, near the present town of Maysville. It was headed into the small stream and shot up it with such swiftness that the pursuers were left far behind.