The great advantage likely to accrue from such an arrangement was that, if they encountered any Indians, as they were more than likely to do, her knowledge of their tongue would enable her to deceive them. They had not gone a hundred yards when the wisdom of this course was demonstrated.
A low "whist" from the guide admonished the spies of danger, and, as agreed beforehand, they sank flat upon their faces and waited for the signal that all was right, before going further. Peering cautiously through the dense gloom, they became aware that the girl was missing, and she was gone so long that they were filled with serious misgivings.
Finally her shadowy figure came out of the gloom, and she told them she had succeeded in having two sentinels removed whose position was such that it would have been impossible for them to get by undiscovered.
In the same noiseless manner the flight was resumed, and the three phantoms, moved along through the gloom for a half hour, when they were startled by the barking of a dog close to them. Instantly White and M'Clelland cocked their guns, but their guide whispered that they were now in the very middle of the village, and their lives depended on the utmost silence and secrecy. They needed hardly to be assured of that, and they signified that her directions would be followed implicitly.
A minute later they were accosted by a squaw from an opening in her wigwam; the guide made appropriate reply, in the Indian tongue, and without pause, moved on. Her voice and manner disarmed suspicion, and the three were not disturbed.
Only a short distance further was passed, when the girl assured them they were beyond the limits of the village, and the great danger was ended. She had shown extraordinary wisdom and shrewdness in leading the spies out of their great peril. She knew the Shawanoes had their sentinels stationed at every avenue of escape, and instead of taking those which it would seem most natural to follow under the circumstances, she adopted the bold plan of disarming all these precautions by passing directly through the center of the village. The very boldness of the plan proved its success.
The fugitives now made for the Ohio River, and, at the end of three days' hard travel, they safely reached the block-house. Their escape prevented the contemplated attack by the Indians, and the adventure itself is certainly one of the most remarkable of the many told of the early days of Ohio and Kentucky.
Among the members of Mr. Finley's church was a quiet, plain-looking woman who was mild, gentle, and consistent in her talk and conversation. And yet this Mrs. Merril was the heroine of the following wonderful exploit:
In 1791, the house of Mr. Merril, in Nelson county, was assaulted by Indians. He was fired upon and fell wounded into the room. The savages attempted to rush in after him, but Mrs. Merril and her daughter succeeded in closing the door. The assailants began to hew a passage through it with their tomahawks; and, having made a hole large enough, one of them attempted to squeeze into the room. Undismayed, the courageous woman seized an axe, gave the ruffian a fatal blow as he sprang through, and he sunk quietly to the floor. Another, and still another, followed till four of their number met the same fate. The silence within induced one of them to pause and look through the crevice in the door. Discovering the fate of those who had entered, the savages resolved upon another mode of attack. Two of their number clambered to the top of the house, and prepared to descend the broad wooden chimney. This new danger was promptly met. Mrs. Merril did not desert her post; but directed her little son to cut open the feather bed, and pour the feathers upon the fire. This the little fellow did with excellent effect. The two savages, scorched and suffocated, fell down into the fire, and were soon dispatched by the children and the wounded husband. At that moment a fifth savage attempted to enter the door; but he received a salute upon the head from the axe held by Mrs. Merril, that sent him howling away. Thus seven of the savages were destroyed by the courage and energy of this heroic woman. When the sole survivor reached the town, and was asked, "What news?" a prisoner heard his reply: "Bad news! The squaws fight worse than long knives."
William Kennan, a noted scout and ranger, was the hero of many extraordinary incidents.