The Life and Times of Col. Daniel Boone, Hunter, Soldier, and Pioneer / With Sketches of Simon Kenton, Lewis Wetzel, and Other Leaders in the Settlement of the West

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

The pursuers slackened their gait and advanced with the extremest caution, for only by doing so could they hope to succeed in the rescue of the young girls.

Suddenly the figures of the warriors were discerned through the trees a short distance ahead. They had stopped, and were in the act of kindling a fire, evidently meaning to encamp for the night. The Indians were startled at the same moment by sight of the whites hurrying toward them, and not one of the dusky red-skins could misunderstand what it meant. Had it been possible for such a misunderstanding, they were undeceived the next instant.

The pursuers showed their earnestness by not waiting a moment for the warriors to rally, but four bringing their rifles to their shoulders, took a quick aim and fired into the party. The smoke of the powder had scarcely time to curl upward from the muzzles of the guns, when the whole eight charged straight into camp on a dead run, and with the fury of tigers.

When the Indians saw those figures coming, they had no time to slay the amazed captives, but, snatching up only one of their guns, they scattered pell-mell for the wood. As they went at headlong haste, Boone and one of his men fired, while still on a dead run. Each fugitive was "hit hard," but he managed to get away in the gathering darkness, and it may safely be concluded that none of the survivors looked upon that particular expedition against the settlers at Boonesborough in any other light than a failure.

The joy of the three girls over the rescue must be left to the imagination of the reader. They were terrified almost out of their senses when captured, but they knew they would soon be missed from home, and their friends would be on the trail, but they were old enough to understand the vast disadvantages under which they would be placed, knowing that no pursuit could be instituted until the morrow.

And then, too, they knew the meaning of the extreme precaution taken by the Indians in separating and walking so carefully through the densest of the canebrakes. And, as mile after mile was placed behind them, and the warm summer day drew to a close, many a misgiving must have saddened their hearts, as they looked through the gathering shadows and failed to see anything of the loved forms.

But they had come, bursting into camp like thunderbolts,—the Indians had fled in terror, and the girls were restored to their friends without a hair of their heads being harmed.

The place where the recapture took place was thick with cane, and some of the pursuers would have been glad to keep on and inflict further chastisement upon the Indians,—but that was impracticable, and, as the girls were out of danger, the party turned about and started back toward Boonesborough, where they arrived without mishap or further adventure, and where, as may well be supposed, their return created joy and thanksgiving throughout the entire settlement.

This incident, one of the most romantic of the innumerable occurrences of the border, possessed a significance which some of the settlers failed to see. The presence of the Indians so near Boonesborough and the daring abduction was not done by what may be called an irresponsible company of warriors. On the contrary, they were one of the many scouting parties sent out to make observations of all the settlements along the border, with a view of organizing a combined movement against them.

The agents of England, who had been so industriously at work for months with the Indians of the West, used means which at last accomplished their purpose, and, while hostilities were being pushed with such vigor in the East against the struggling colonies, it threatened to assume a more desperate and sanguinary character in the West.