With George Washington into the wilderness

by Edwin L. Sabin

More and more Iroquois were going over to the French. Captain Joncaire had persuaded the Delawares and the Shawnees. The Mingos at Aukwick listened to George Croghan but many outside travelled to Fort Duquesne where the French gave presents.

Washington had gone home from Will’s Creek. Maybe he had grown tired, too, of waiting for help. The Governor of Virginia had not given the French back the prisoners taken by Washington; and it was said that Strobo and Vanbraam had been sent to Canada by the French, as prisoners. But the package carried by the Buck to George Croghan had contained a map of Fort Duquesne; this also had gone to the Governor of Virginia, and why Assaragoa did not act, nobody knew.

Old Tanacharison died this fall. No doubt the French had made him sick, because he had fought them. Scarouady was appointed Half-King. That was good. He was not afraid of the French. And the winter wore on, and it was rumored that the King across the water had ordered his soldiers to come and drive out the French; and one day in the spring George Croghan asked that a council meet.

In the council he made a speech. The English and the Long Knives were starting, under a great general, to capture Fort Duquesne. The general had asked for warriors to help him.

Ugh! With all the Mingo warriors—fifty—and their families, Croghan set out to meet the General at Will’s Creek. There were Scarouady and Silver Heels and White Thunder and Big Tree and the Buck, and Robert, and the rest, not omitting Bright Lightning.

Will’s Creek has changed. A fort stood here now, named Fort Cumberland. And around the fort were a host of tents in lines, and red coats, and a batch of blue coats, horses, cattle, wagons and cannon on wheels.

It was a wonderful sight, and made Scarouady grunt approval.

“Ho!” he said. “Now I see the English. We shall eat up the French.”

The soldiers sent by the King were in red, with high, black, shiny hats, and white cross belts, and white leggins buttoned below the knee, and hair twisted into stubby tails hanging down their backs; large and fierce they looked. They numbered one thousand. The red of one half had yellow trimmings; of the other half, clay.

The blue-coated soldiers were Long Knives; four hundred and fifty, in nine companies. There were soldiers from New York and from Carolina, too. And there were seamen, or sailors, from great ships. But these numbered only fifty. Their clothes were very odd, and so was their language.