The Indians were scattered everywhere in desperate bands. Forty men were sent from North Carolina and a hundred from Virginia, under Colonel Bowman, to strengthen the feeble settlements. The latter party arrived on the twentieth of August, 1776. There were at that time skirmishes with the Indians almost every day at some point. The pioneers within their log-houses, or behind their palisades, generally repelled these assaults with but little loss to themselves and not often inflicting severe injury to the wary savages. In the midst of these constant conflicts and dangers, the winter months passed drearily away. Boonesborough was constantly menaced and frequently attacked. In a diary kept within the fort we find the following entries:
"May 23.—A large party of Indians attacked Boonesborough fort. Kept a warm fire till eleven o'clock at night. Began it next morning, and kept a warm fire till midnight. Attempting several times to burn the fort. Three of our men were wounded, but not mortally.
"May 26th.—A party went out to hunt Indians. One wounded Squire Boone, and escaped."
Very cruel warfare was now being waged by the majestic power of Great Britain to bring the revolted colonies back to subjection to their laws. As we have mentioned they called into requisition on their side the merciless energies of the savage, openly declaring to the world that they were justified in making use of whatever weapons God and nature might place in their hands. From the strong British garrisons at Detroit, Vincennes and Kaskaskia, the Indians were abundantly supplied with rifles, powder and bullets, and were offered liberal rewards for such prisoners, and even scalps, as they might bring in.
The danger which threatened these settlements in Kentucky was now such as might cause the stoutest heart to quail. The savage had been adopted as an ally by the most wealthy and powerful nation upon the globe. His marauding bands were often guided by the intelligence of British officers. Boone organized what might be called a corps of explorers to go out two and two, penetrating the wilderness with extreme caution, in all directions, to detect any indication of the approach of the Indians. One of these explorers, Simon Kenton, acting under the sagacious counsel of Colonel Boone, had obtained great and deserved celebrity as among the most heroic of the remarkable men who laid the foundation of the State of Kentucky. It would be difficult to find in any pages of romance incidents of more wonderful adventure, or of more dreadful suffering, or stories of more miraculous escape, than were experienced by this man. Several times he was taken captive by the Indians, and though treated with great inhumanity, succeeded in making his escape. The following incident in his life, occurring about this time, gives one a very vivid picture of the nature of this warfare with the Indians:
"Colonel Bowman sent Simon Kenton with two other men, Montgomery and Clark, on an exploring tour. Approaching an Indian town very cautiously in the night, on the north side of the Ohio river, they found a number of Indian horses in an enclosure. A horse in the wilderness was one of the most valuable of prizes. They accordingly each mounted an animal, and not daring to leave any behind, which would aid the Indians to pursue them, by hastily constructed halters they led the rest. The noise which the horses made awoke the Indians, and the whole village was at once in a state of uproar. The mounted adventurers dashed through the woods and were soon beyond the reach of the shouts and the yells which they left behind them. They knew, however, full well that the swift-footed Indian warriors would be immediately on their trail. Without a moment's rest they rode all night, the next day and the next night, and on the morning of the second day reached the banks of the Ohio river. The flood of that majestic stream flowed broad and deep before them, and its surface was lashed into waves by a very boisterous wind. The horses could not swim across in such a gale, but their desire to retain the invaluable animals was so great that they resolved to wait upon the banks until sunset, when they expected the wind to abate. Having been so well mounted and having such a start of the Indians, they did not suppose it possible that their pursuers could overtake them before that time.
"Night came, but with it an increase of the fury of the gale, and the stream became utterly impassable. Early in the morning Kenton, who was separated from his companions, observed three Indians and a white man, well mounted, rapidly approaching. Raising his rifle, he took steady aim at the breast of the foremost Indian, and pulled the trigger. The powder flashed in the pan. Kenton took to his heels, but was soon overtaken and captured. The Indians seemed greatly exasperated at the loss of their horses. One seized him by the hair and shook his head 'till his teeth rattled.' The others scourged him severely with their ramrods over the head and face, exclaiming at every blow, 'Steal Indian hoss, hey!'
"Just then Kenton saw Montgomery coming boldly to his assistance. Instantly two Indian rifles were discharged, and Montgomery fell dead. His bloody scalp was waved in the face of Kenton, with menaces of a similar fate. Clark had sought safety in flight. Kenton was thrown upon the ground upon his back. His neck was fastened by a halter to a sapling; his arms, extended to their full length, were pinioned to the earth by stakes; his feet were fastened in a similar manner. A stout stick was passed across his breast, and so attached to the earth that he could not move his body. All this was done in the most violent and cruel manner, accompanied by frequent cuffs, and blows, as the maddened Indians called him in the broken English which they had acquired, 'a tief, a hoss steal, a rascal,' which expressions the Indians had learned to intersperse with English oaths.
"In this condition of suffering Kenton remained through the day and through the night. The next morning the savages having collected their scattered horses, put Kenton upon a young colt, tied his hands behind him and his feet beneath the horse's belly, and set out on their return. The country was rough and Kenton could not at all protect himself from the brambles through which they passed. Thus they rode all day. When night came, their prisoner was bound to the earth as before. The next day they reached the Indian village, which was called Chilicothe, on the Miami river, forty or fifty miles west of the present city of Chilicothe, Ohio. A courier was sent forward, to inform the village of their arrival. Every man, woman and child came running out, to view the prisoner. One of their chiefs, Blackfish, approached Kenton with a strong hickory switch in his hand, and addressing him said,