CHAPTER XXIV
WASHINGTON AT WILL’S CREEK
The remainder of the winter passed slowly to those at the trading-post. When it did not snow it was bitter cold, and often the wind shrieked and tore through the leafless branches of the trees along the river and back of the clearing. Nobody came near the place but a few friendly and half-starved Indians, who were given the food and shelter they begged. They brought no news of the outside world excepting that the red men of the lakes were digging up their war hatchets at the instigation of the French, and that great things were expected to happen during the coming summer.
“And they will happen,” said James Morris. “But I sincerely trust the fighting does not take place around here.”
“More than likely it will take place at every trading-post,” answered Barringford. “Those Frenchmen won’t stop at nuthin when they git a-going, and they’ll bribe the Injuns to do the dirtiest kind of work for them.” This was a strong opinion, yet in those days many thought as the old hunter did.
In the meantime Major Washington had gotten back to Virginia and delivered his reply from the French commander to Governor Dinwiddie. The answer was considered evasive and a ruse to gain time, and when Washington published his report the people at large were much impressed by it. On all sides it was felt that something must be done to clinch the English claim to the Ohio Valley.
The first movement of the governor was to send Captain Trent to the front. Trent was to organize a body of a hundred men and complete the building of the fort which the Ohio Company had started at the fork of the river. In the meantime Washington was commissioned to organize another company at Alexandria and then march for the fort, where he was to take general command. It was hard work to get the colonists to vote any money for the militia but at last the governor obtained an appropriation of ten thousand pounds. On the strength of this the militia was increased to six companies of fifty men each.
“You can have the command of the whole militia if you wish,” said Governor Dinwiddie to Washington. “I know of no better officer.”
“I thank you greatly,” returned Washington. “But as yet I have had small experience in warfare. I would rather stand aside in favor of somebody who knows more of these things than I do.” The governor demurred, but Washington was firm, and in the end Joshua Fry became colonel of the command and the young major was made lieutenant-colonel.
In a country so sparingly populated, it was difficult to get recruits. But few in the cities cared to undergo the hardships of a campaign in the wilderness and the majority of the backwoodsmen preferred to “go it alone,” as they expressed it. In this quandary neither Colonel Fry nor Washington knew what to do, although the latter went around “drumming up” soldiers wherever he could. In this predicament Governor Dinwiddie again came forward and offered a bounty of two hundred thousand acres of land to be divided among the soldiers and officers who enlisted for the campaign. This was an inducement, which many, especially the farm and plantation boys, could not resist, and soon recruiting went forward rapidly.
Early in April Washington set off with a portion of the command for the fort at the fork of the Ohio. Colonel Fry was to follow later, bringing the artillery along by way of the Potomac. The winter was now past, but the snow still lay in the mountain passes, and the rivers were much swollen.
The young commander had with him about a hundred and fifty men. These marched to Winchester, where the expedition was to fit out further for the march into the wilderness. But at the frontier town supplies were scarce and Washington would have gotten nothing had he not ordered what he wanted, in the name of the province.
“We need these things and must have them,” he said. “If you will not give them up willingly, we shall take them. Your bills will be paid by the government.” At last he procured ten wagons and the horses to draw them, and thus equipped started out for Will’s Creek.
The creek was not yet gained when an old hunter came riding along with alarming news from the fort.
“The place has been attacked,” he said. “Captain Trent was killed and all his men slain or taken prisoners.”
“The fort attacked!” cried Washington. He said little more, but pushed forth to Will’s Creek with renewed vigor. Some few of his recruits wanted to wait for reinforcements but he would not listen to them.
When Will’s Creek was gained Washington found the trading-post in wild excitement. Captain Trent was there and said there had been no attack on the fort so far as he knew. He had left John Frazier in charge, for the trader had joined the soldiery a short time before. Trent had been ordered to Will’s Creek, to prepare a pack train for Washington but had done little or nothing. Only a few horses could be procured in the neighborhood—two coming from Joseph Morris’ farm—and the young commander had to wait, impatient as he was, until he could send back to Winchester for another levy.
With the coming of spring business at James Morris’ trading-post was resumed. The Indians, however, had but few pelts to barter with and the English hunters also came in more or less empty handed. The red men were preparing for war and did not dare go too far from home for fear their villages would be attacked by the Indians from the lakes.
In March the trader received a communication supposedly from a French commander ordering him to vacate the vicinity of the Kinotah in three months’ time or less. This communication was delivered to Mr. Morris through a French guide attached to the trading-post kept by Jean Bevoir and Dave’s father half suspected that the order was fraudulent, gotten up by Bevoir himself to get him out of the territory. He sent word back that he would consider the matter and consult with the English officials concerning it.
“What will you do, father?” asked Dave, after the messenger had taken his departure.
“I hardly know, Dave,” returned Mr. Morris, walking uneasily up and down the cabin floor. “If this is a genuine notice it is a serious thing.”
“But perhaps it is only the work of that rascal, Jean Bevoir.”
“I am half of a mind to take the notice to Winchester, but I hate to leave the post at such a critical time as this.”
“I will take the notice to Winchester if you wish it.”
“You might do so, but I would not let you go alone, and I don’t know of anybody I can spare just now. I want Barringford to remain here, too. In case of a sudden attack he will be worth half a dozen ordinary men—you’ve found that out already.”
The matter was talked over for two days, but nothing came of it. On the third day White Buffalo put in an appearance, along with two followers, and James Morris at once asked the Indian chief to escort Dave as far as Will’s Creek, offering him fair pay for the work. The Indian chief consented, and the party started out early on the following morning.
“Perhaps the war is already on,” said Dave, half jokingly. “If it is, father, I’ll join the soldiery.”
“All right, join,” answered Mr. Morris, just as lightly. “But don’t forget that I want to hear from that notice;” and so they parted, never dreaming of the terrible events in store for both of them.
White Buffalo was the best of guides and through his leadership the advance of the little party was rapid. He knew the best fording spots in all the rivers and what trail was good and what bad. He thought a great deal of Dave and the youth felt perfectly safe with him.
On the second day out from the trading-post White Buffalo, who was slightly in advance, came to a sudden halt.
“White men are ahead,” he announced. “Men with guns, shovels and axes.”
The Indian chief spoke the truth, and drawing closer they made out that the party, which numbered between forty and fifty, were English, and that only a few were armed. Feeling that they must be friends Dave advanced and hailed their leader, who proved to be an ensign named Ward.
“We are from the new fort,” explained the ensign. “Whither are you bound?”
“For Will’s Creek first and then for Winchester.”
“Then you can go with us if you wish.”
“You are going to Will’s Creek?”
“Yes.”
The ensign did not wish to speak further, but from a hunter who was with the party Dave learned the truth of the situation. This body of men were those left by Captain Trent at the fort under the leadership of John Frazier. While Frazier was away and the men under the ensign were hard at work on the fort, a body of a thousand French soldiers, with field pieces, had suddenly appeared on the river, having come down in canoes and on rafts from Venango. The French leader, an old army officer, had demanded an immediate surrender of the fort. The ensign knew not what to do. He wished to consult with Frazier, or with Captain Trent, but the enemy would not give him the necessary time. As it was surrender or fight, and the fort was by no means completed, the ensign surrendered on condition that his company of fifty be allowed to march away unmolested and with their working tools. This condition had been granted, and the company was now on its way to join the advancing body under Lieut.-Colonel Washington.
“The French will count this a great victory,” said the hunter who told the story, “and they will go around and make every other fort and trading-post surrender.”
“Then that means they will visit my father’s post,” returned the youth, soberly.
“More than likely, lad.”
After this conversation Dave consulted with White Buffalo. “I will need you no longer,” he said to the chief. “I will march to Will’s Creek with these soldiers. But my father may need you and you had best go back to him and tell him of what has occurred. If you meet any of your braves on the way, take them with you.”
“I will do as the young white hunter wishes,” answered the Indian. “But if the French number a thousand, what can the white boy’s father do against so many, even with the help of White Buffalo? My tribe is fallen to decay and now numbers but three score, and many are old and can fight no longer.”
The last words were spoken sadly and Dave pitied the warrior, who had in his younger years been at the head of a powerful tribe.
“Do your best, White Buffalo,” he said, placing his hand on the Indian’s shoulder. “Stand by my father and the Great Spirit will surely reward you.” So they parted, and soon White Buffalo and his followers had vanished on the back trail.
The march to Will’s Creek came to an end three days later. The appearance of the ensign with his men surprised Washington a great deal and he quickly asked for the particulars of what had occurred. In the party were several Indian chiefs sent by the half-king and other sachems to learn what the English were doing and when they would come west.
Realizing the increased gravity of the situation, Washington acted promptly. One chief he sent to Governor Dinwiddie, the other he told to return to the half-king with the news that he was coming to open the way for a large body of English soldiers, and he asked that the half-king meet him for the purpose of holding a council of war.