“Hallo! Hallo! Comrade! I’m a fugitive from the Indians and was one of Crawford’s men. Come! Take me over to the settlement!”
The fellow did not seem anxious to hasten to his relief, for he was afraid that Slover was one of the white renegades who had joined the redskins and was anxious to trap him. After a long harangue he finally rowed to the place where the tattered scout was standing. The refugee fairly hugged him for joy, and, in a few minutes, was again safe in the settlement, where he was greeted with warm and affectionate regard by the other men of the frontier, who had received many stragglers from the ill-fated expedition under Colonel Crawford.
The escape of John Slover was one of the narrowest of which there is any record in the annals of war upon the frontier. No wonder that for many years the story of this famous affair was the favorite topic of conversation, when the after-dinner pipes were lighted, and the men of the forest would sit before the glowing embers, there to tell tales concerning the heroism and courage of the gallant settlers of the wild and undeveloped West. Truly the adventures which befell John Slover were the most thrilling of them all.
LEWIS WETZEL:
HEROIC VIRGINIA FRONTIERSMAN AND IMPLACABLE ENEMY OF THE REDSKINS
“BOYS, watch your mother and grandfather for a few hours, because I am going out fishing. There is no danger of attack from redskins, for none have been seen for six months. If, however, any one comes to our cabin with news of prowling bands, shoot off your rifles three times. This will warn me of any danger to you, and I will hasten home.”
So spoke John Wetzel, whose cabin was upon the far western Virginian frontier, and, turning from his two little boys, he plunged into the wilderness. This was the last that he ever saw of his wife and her aged father. He had not been three days in the forest before his cabin was attacked.
Stealing carefully through the brush, a marauding band of savages suddenly made a sortie upon the isolated house of logs. There was not time to warn the inmates of the stealthy approach before the tomahawk and scalping-knife were at work. In an hour’s time all of the inmates had been dispatched, except Lewis Wetzel and his little brother, Martin, both of whom were carried off into captivity. Lewis was about thirteen years of age and Martin was eleven.