"Well, I've given my conscientious opinion about the affair, and now you can do as you please. Of course I shall go with the majority, and my seniors in command; and ef the decision's for a fight, why a fight we must venter, though every man o' Kaintuck be laid on his back for the risking. Ef we fail—and its my opine we shall—let them as takes the responsibility bear the blame. I'll give my voice, though, to the last, that we'd better wait the reinforcements o' Colonel Logan."
"Sir!" exclaimed Colonel Todd, turning fiercely to Boone; "if you are not a coward, you talk like one! Don't you know, sir, that if we wait for Logan, he will gain all the laurels?—and that if we press forward, we shall gain all the glory?"
"As to my being a coward, Colonel Todd," replied Boone, mildly, with dignity, "when the word's explained so as I know the full meaning on't, prehaps I'll be able to decide ef I be or not. Ef it means prudence in a time o' danger, on which the welfare o' my country and the lives o' my countrymen depends, I'd rather be thought cowardly than rash. Ef it means a fear to risk my own poor body in defence o' others, I reckon as how my past life'll speak for itself; and for the futer, wharsomever Colonel Todd dars to venter, Daniel Boone dars to lead. As to glory, we'll talk about that arter the battle's fought."
Thus ended the discussion; and the matter being put to vote, it was carried by an overwhelming majority in favor of Todd's proposition, that the Indians should be pursued without further delay. It was now about three o'clock in the afternoon; and immediately on the final decision being made, the council broke up, and orders were rapidly given to prepare to depart forthwith. All the horses in or about the station were now collected together, on which most of the officers and many of the privates were soon mounted; and by four o'clock the eastern gate was thrown open, the order to march given by Colonel Todd, and the procession, composed of the flower of Kentucky's gallant sons, moved forth, amid sighs and tears from the opposite sex. Reynolds—who, during the past two or three days, since the retreat of the enemy, had employed his leisure moments in the company of the being he loved, and who was now finely mounted on a superb charger which had been presented him by Colonel Boone—turned upon his saddle, as he was leaving the station, and waved another adieu to Ella, who stood in the door of her cottage, gazing upon his noble form, with a pale cheek, tearful eye, and beating heart. She raised her lily hand, and, with a graceful motion, returned his parting salute; and then, to conceal her emotion, retired into the house.
The Indians, it was found, had followed the buffalo trace, and, according to the account given by the scouts, had made their trail obvious as possible, by hacking the trees on either side with their tomahawks. Their camp fires, however, were very few, comparatively speaking, which to Boone seemed plainly evident of a desire to mask their numbers. He had lived in the woods all his life, was the oldest settler on the borders, and had been several times a prisoner of the Indians; so that he was familiar with their artifices for decoying their enemies; and he believed, from what he saw, that it was their desire to be followed by the whites; and that they would probably seek to draw the latter into an ambuscade in the vicinity of the Blue Licks, where the wild country was particularly favorable to their purpose. In imagination he already saw the disastrous result that was destined to follow this hasty expedition; but his counsel to the contrary had been disregarded, and it was not a time now to dampen the ardor of the soldiers, on which alone success could depend, by expressing his fears and laying himself liable to further reproach and contumely. He had said and done all that was consistent in his situation to prevent the present step; and he now saw proper to keep his fears of the result to himself; the more so, as a retreat was out of the question.
About dark the party came to halt, and encamped in the woods for the night. Early on the ensuing morning they resumed their march; and a little before noon reached the southern bluffs of Licking river, opposite the Lower Blue Lick, distant from Bryan's Station some thirty-six miles, and the place where, according to the opinion of Boone, the savages would be likely to lie in wait to give them battle.
The scenery in the vicinity of the Licks, even at the present day, is peculiarly wild and romantic; but at the period in question, it was relieved by nothing in the shape of civilization. The Licks themselves had for ages been the resort of buffalo and other wild animals, which had come there to lick the saline rocks, and had cropped the surrounding hills of every green thing, thereby giving them a barren, desolate, gloomy appearance. On the northern bank—the one opposite our little army—arose a tremendous bluff, entirely destitute of vegetation, the brow of which was trodden hard by the immense herds of buffalo which had passed over it from time immemorial on their way to and from the salt springs at its base. To add to its dismal appearance, the rains of centuries had sloughed deep gullies in its side, and washed the earth from the rocks around its base, which, being blackened in the sun, now rose grim and bare, frowning in their majesty like fettered monsters of the infernal regions. As you ascended this ridge, a hard level trace or road led back for something like a mile—free from tree, stump or bush—when you came to a point where two ravines, one on either hand, met at the top, and, thickly wooded, ran in opposite directions down to the river, which, beginning on the right, went sweeping round a large circuit, in the form of an iron magnet, and made a sort of inland peninsula of the bluff in question. Back from this buffalo trace, on the southern bank of the Licking, dark heavy woods extended for miles in every direction, and made the whole scene impressive with a kind of gloomy grandeur.
As our gallant band of Kentuckians gained the river, they descried some three or four savages leisurely ascending the stony ridge on the opposite side. On perceiving the troops, the Indians paused, gazed at them a few moments in silence, and then, quietly continuing their ascent, disappeared on the other side. A halt was now ordered by Colonel Todd, and a council of war called to deliberate on what was best to be done. The wild gloomy country around them, their distance from any post of succor, and the startling idea that perchance they were in the presence of a body of savages of double or treble their own numbers, was not without its effect upon Todd and those who had seconded his hasty movements, and served much toward cooling their ardor, and inspiring each other with a secret awe.
Immediately on the halt of the troops, some twenty officers assembled in front of the lines for consultation; when, turning to them, Colonel Todd said:
"Gentlemen, for aught I know to the contrary we are now in the presence of a superior enemy—superior at least in point of numbers—and I desire to know your minds as to what course we had best pursue. And particularly, Colonel Boone," continued Todd, politely bowing to the veteran woodsman, "would I solicit your views on the matter; believing as I do, notwithstanding any hasty words I may have uttered in the heat of excitement to the contrary, that you are a brave soldier, cool under all circumstances, amply experienced in Indian stratagem, and consequently capable of rendering much valuable advice in the present instance."