Daniel Boone, Backwoodsman

by C. H. Forbes-Lindsay

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.