My father was killed some distance away from home, and, judging from the signs nearabout the place where he had been tortured to death, it seemed certain that no more than three Indians had captured him.
Most likely it was a party of hunters, who had not really come out for mischief, but seeing an opportunity to take the life of a white man seized upon it. If they had been on the warpath, then beyond a peradventure our cabin would have been attacked.
To Simon Kenton, however, this sort of work was by no means new. He had been besieged many times, as we knew from the stories the young man told us a short time previous; but I ventured to say that never before had he been pitted against the painted foes with so small a force, and in a place where it was not probable any help could come.
Our cabin was situated so far back from the river that those passing up or down the stream would not suspect a habitation was near at hand, and, unless well acquainted with the clearing, an hundred men might go back and forth, never thinking that a settler had ventured in this vicinity.
Therefore it was that I, and most likely Simon Kenton also, realized how entirely alone we were. Unless we could beat off this foe which had so suddenly assailed us, within a comparatively short time, the end was near at hand for all, because no preparations had been made for a siege, and our store of provisions and water, even with careful husbanding, must be exhausted within a few days.
As all this came into my mind, and I learned that it was possible for the Indians to send their bullets inside, through the chinks between the logs, provided they were sufficiently good marksmen, my heart sank within me. I said to myself that Kenton had come too late to be of service to us, and too soon for his own safety.
As I have said, the savages had crept up under the cover of darkness close beneath the walls of the cabin, and were able to shoot at us with but little danger to themselves. Our only hope lay in dislodging them from their place of vantage, and this much I realized fully even though unexperienced in warfare.
On reading what is here set down one may say that a boy of sixteen, situated as was I at that moment, would not thus calmly weigh the chances for and against a successful defense. In reply to such criticism, I would say that in my opinion any lad of ordinary intelligence must perforce have had much the same thoughts, because of the ample time for reflection.
After the first volley, and until perhaps ten minutes had elapsed, the Indians gave no sign of life. All was still as if we three were alone in the wilderness—as if it had been some hideous nightmare which awakened us. During such time, Simon Kenton stood like a statue; but in such attitude as gave me to understand that all his senses were alert. He was an experienced Indian fighter, listening for some token which should give him a clue as to how he might best protect his own life.
My mother remained near one of the loopholes at the rear of the house, also on the alert, and I had not moved from the position taken up when we made our first poor preparations for the defense.