His place among the men of the early days along the great river has long been recognized in history. While he lacked some of the wonderful qualities that made Boone beloved among the whites, and both feared and respected by the Indians, still Kenton has always held a strong place in the affection of those who know the wonderful exploits with which his life was crowned.
Although Kenton was possessed of a particularly amiable disposition among his friends, it is likely that his equal for recklessness was never known. History tells us that, during the course of his adventurous life along the border with Boone, and alone, he many times fell into the hands of the Indians, though they seemed unable to hold so slippery a customer.
Eight times he was condemned to run the gauntlet, always one of the most cruel of the Indian inventions of horror; three times was he tied to the stake, sentenced to be burned alive; and once he was nearly slain by an ax.
And yet, in spite of all these things, Simon Kenton lived to a green old age, dying in 1836 within sight of the very spot where the Indians, fifty-eight years before, had made preparations to torture him to death. ([Note 3.])
While at the settlement of our friends Kenton and his two comrades made their headquarters in an empty cabin, deserted by a settler who had gone back to the fair fields of Virginia because his wife grieved for her family, and was too timid to stay where at any hour they could expect to hear the wild whoops of hostile Indians.
Of course, as soon as it could be done in secret, the head men of the settlement sought to find out from Kenton whether the news brought by Pat O'Mara was founded on facts, or the result of a lively imagination.
"I have been in the eastern country," replied the forest ranger, seriously; "and can only say this, that thar are all the signs of a big outbreak. Down in Kentucky Boone has had to be on the defensive all the time, because the Shawanees did not feel themselves bound by the Fort Stanwix treaty. My friends, I regret to say to you that the outlook is dark. Be on your guard. If this winter passes without a general war on the part of half a dozen tribes, some of us will believe that we are poor prophets."
And, later on, he told in detail what he and his friends had seen and heard. The news was distressing to these people, so many hundreds of miles away from help, and dependent on themselves alone to combat the gathering clouds.
But there were brave hearts among those early pioneers. Even the women refused to believe that they were to be overwhelmed, and made to perish from the face of the earth. From such stock have our forefathers sprung, and, looking back, we have need of every adjective at our command to express admiration for the valor of these Ohio pioneers.
David Armstrong felt that he had much to be thankful for in those days. His wife and little family were in perfect health; but there was one thing that seemed to be giving the pioneer anxiety.