[CHAPTER XVII.]
Adventure of the Spies White and M'Clelland—Daring Defence of her Home by Mrs. Merrill—Exploits of Kennan the Ranger.
The block-house garrison at the mouth of Hocking River was thrown into considerable alarm on one occasion by the discovery that an unusual number of Indians were swarming in their town in the valley. Such a state of affairs, as a rule, means that the savages are making, or have made, preparations for a serious movement against the whites.
To ascertain the cause of the presence of so many warriors in that section, two of the most skillful and daring rangers of the West were sent out to spy their movements. These scouts were White and McClelland, and the season on which they ventured upon their dangerous expedition was one of the balmy days in Indian summer.
The scouts made their way leisurely to the top of the well-known prominence near Lancaster, Ohio, from whose rocky summit they looked off over the plain spreading far to the west, and through which the Hocking River winds like a stream of silver.
From this elevation, the keen-eyed scouts gazed down upon a curious picture—one which told them of the certain coming of the greatest danger which can break upon the frontier settlement. What they saw, and the singular adventures that befell them, are told by the Reverend J. B. Finley, the well-known missionary of the West.
Day by day the spies witnessed the horse-racing of the assembled thousands. The old sachems looked on with their Indian indifference, the squaws engaged in their usual drudgery, while the children indulged unrestrainedly in their playful gambols. The arrival of a new war party was greeted with loud shouts, which, striking the stony face of Mount Pleasant, were driven back in the various indentations of the surrounding hills, producing reverberations and echoes as if so many fiends were gathered in universal levee. On several occasions, small parties left the prairie and ascended the mount from its low and grassy eastern slope. At such times, the spies would hide in the deep fissures of the rocks on the west, and again leave their hiding-places when their unwelcome visitors had disappeared. For food, they depended on jerked venison and corn-bread, with which their knapsacks were well stored. They dare not kindle a fire, and the report of one of their rifles would have brought upon them the entire force of Indians. For drink, they resorted to the rain-water which still stood in the hollows of the rocks; but, in a short time, this source was exhausted, and McClelland and White were forced to abandon their enterprise, or find a new supply. To accomplish this, M'Clelland, being the oldest, resolved to make the attempt. With his trusty rifle in hand and two canteens slung over his shoulders, he cautiously descended, by a circuitous route, to the prairie skirting the hills on the north.
Under cover of the hazel thicket, he reached the river, and turning the bold point of a hill, found a beautiful spring within a few feet of the stream now known by the name of Cold Spring. Filling his canteens, he returned in safety to his watchful companion. It was now determined to have a fresh supply of water every day, and the duty was performed alternately.
On one of these occasions, after White had filled his canteens, he sat watching the water as it came gurgling out of the earth, when the light sound of footsteps fell on his ear. Upon turning around he saw two squaws within a few feet of him. The eldest gave one of those far-reaching whoops peculiar to Indians.
White at once comprehended his perilous situation. If the alarm should reach the camps or town, he and his companion must inevitably perish. Self-preservation compelled him to inflict a noiseless death on the squaws, and in such a manner as, if possible, to leave no trace behind. Ever rapid in thought and prompt in action, he sprang upon his victims with the rapidity and power of the lion, and grasping the throat of each, sprang into the river. He thrust the head of the eldest under the water, and while making strong efforts to submerge the younger (who, however, powerfully resisted him), to his astonishment, she addressed him in his own language, though in almost inarticulate sounds. Releasing his hold, she informed him she had been a prisoner ten years, and was taken from below Wheeling; that the Indians had killed all the family; that her brother and herself were taken prisoners, but he succeeded, on the second night, in making his escape. During this narrative, White had drowned the elder squaw, and had let the body float off down the current, where it was not likely soon to be found. He now directed the girl to follow him, and, with his usual speed and energy, pushed for the mount.