Meantime the repairing of the pallisades had been going bravely forward, every moment rendering the garrison more and more secure, which served not a little to revive their spirits; and when at length the women had all entered, the gate been barred, and they had seen themselves well supplied with water, they could restrain their feelings no longer, and one grand, simultaneous cheer burst from their lips.

"Now then," said Father Albach, "let 'em come, and I reckon as how they'll meet with a warm reception. But to draw 'em on, we must send out a party to make a feint to fight the others."

Thirteen young men, among whom was Isaac, were accordingly selected, to pass out by the eastern gate and commence firing rapidly; while the remainder, with loaded muskets, were to range themselves along the western pickets, and be ready to pour their deadly contents into the swarthy horde of besiegers, in case their attack should be made in that quarter. As the young men departed, all relapsed into a solemn silence of anxious suspense; which was presently broken by the rapid discharge of firearms, outside the fort, accompanied with cheers and yells from both the whites and Indians. Now was the all important moment—the war sounds were gradually growing more and more distant—and every eye of the inner garrison was strained in breathless expectation, in the direction of the spring, while every rifle was cocked and in rest, ready for any emergency.

Suddenly the tall weeds—which a moment before had been quietly waving in the morning breeze—became dreadfully agitated; and the next instant, as if by magic, the ground was peopled by some five hundred hideous savages; who, led on by the notorious renegade, now rushed forward, with wild frantic yells, to the western pallisades, where our gallant little band stood drawn up ready to receive them. They had advanced in a tremendous body, to within a few feet of the fort, when the word "Fire," uttered in a clear, manly voice, resounded above their own frightful yells, and was followed the next moment by a terrible volley of leaden balls, that carried death and terror into their serried ranks. With one simultaneous yell of rage, consternation, and disappointment, they halted a moment in indecision; when another death-dealing volley, from the gallant Kentuckians, decided their course of action; and again yelling fearfully, they parted to the right and left, and bearing their dead and wounded with them, rushed for the covert of a neighboring forest. At the same moment, the party which had sallied forth upon the Lexington road, to make a feint of attacking their decoys, entered the fort by the eastern gate, in high spirits at the success of their maneuver.

The warfare was now carried on in the usual manner, after the failure of stratagem, for several hours, with but little success on either side. The block-houses were immediately manned by the garrison, who by this means could command every point of compass; and whenever an Indian came in sight, he was at once made the target for three or four keen riflemen, who rarely missed their mark. In consequence of this, the wily savage rarely showed himself in an open manner; but would creep stealthily among the tall weeds, or among the tall standing corn, that covered about an hundred acres of ground on the southern side of the station, or ensconce himself behind some stump or trunk of a tree in the vicinity, and discharge his rifle at any mark thought suitable, or let fly his burning arrows upon the roofs of the cabins. To avoid, if possible, a conflagration, every boy of ten years and upwards, was ordered upon the roofs of the houses, to throw off these burning missiles; but notwithstanding their great vigilance, so rapidly were they sent at one period, that two of the cabins, being in a very combustible state, took fire, to the great consternation of all, and, before they could be extinguished, were totally consumed. Here again the hand of an overruling Providence was manifest; for a light wind drove the flames from the other buildings, and thus a terrible and fatal calamity was averted.

From the attack in the morning by the main body, a sharp fire was maintained on both sides till towards noon; when it began to slacken considerably; and a little past meridian ceased altogether—the savages having withdrawn for another purpose, as we shall show anon, leaving the garrison in suspense as to whether they had totally abandoned the siege or not.

We have previously stated that Bryan's Station stood on a gentle rise on the southern bunk of the Elkhorn, whereby it commanded a view of much of the surrounding country. A considerable portion of the land in the immediate vicinity had been cleared and was under cultivation; but still, in some places, the forest approached to a close proximity; so that it was impossible, without traversing the ground, to determine whether the foe had withdrawn altogether, or, as was more probable, now lay hidden therein, awaiting an unguarded moment of the besieged to renew hostilities. Where the Maysville and Lexington road now runs, was a long narrow lane, bounded on one side by the large cornfield before alluded to, and on the other by a heavy wood. Through this lane the reinforcements from Lexington must naturally pass, to reach the station; and knowing this, and that they were expected, (for the escape of the two couriers in the morning had not been overlooked) the Indians, to the number of more than three hundred, had concealed themselves in the thicket, within pistol shot of the road, and were now quietly waiting to cut them off.

Notwithstanding the quiet which had succeeded the sounds of warfare, the garrison were still on the lookout, fearful of being surprised. In this manner an hour or two passed away, without any event occurring worth being recorded, when a voice shouted joyfully:

"The Lexington reinforcements are at hand!"

In a moment the whole station was in commotion—men, women, and children rushing to the block-houses and pallisades nearest to and overlooking the long lane just mentioned. The force in question numbered some sixteen horsemen, and about twice as many foot; who, not having heard any firing, nor seen any savages thus far, were somewhat carelessly approaching the fort at a leisure pace, thinking, as was not uncommon in those times of danger, when such things were often exaggerated, that perhaps the alarm had been unfounded, or, at the most, based only on slight grounds. They had been overtaken on the road between Lexington and Hoy's station, for which place they had marched on receiving the news of Holder's defeat, and had been informed by Tomlinson and Bell that Bryan's station was surrounded by a large body of Indians, of whose numbers they knew nothing. On hearing this, and knowing the unguarded condition of Lexington, they had instantly turned back, and pressed forward at what speed they could to the assistance of their neighbors, of whom they were now in sight.

"Great Heaven!" cried the voice of the look-out, at this moment, in consternation. "See!—see!—they are ambushed, and will all be cut off!"

As he spoke, a long rolling line of fire could he discerned; and presently was heard the report of a tremendous volley of musketry, followed by a cloud of dust and smoke, which for a time completely hid them from view. In a few minutes, however, the horsemen were seen close at hand, spurring forward with lightning speed. Some three or four individuals instantly sprung to and threw open the eastern gate, and in less than two minutes they reined in their panting steeds in the court of the station. At the first shot of the savages, they had put spurs to their horses, and, as the ground was very dry, a cloud of dust had instantly enveloped them, by which means, fortunately, every one of them had escaped unharmed, although on their way they had drawn the fire of more than three hundred Indian rifles, successively discharged at them while passing the lines of the ambuscade. Not thus easily, however, escaped their companions on foot.

At the commencement of the firing, these latter were advancing toward the station through the cornfield, and, being completely hidden from the savages thereby, they might, had they pressed rapidly forward, have gained the fort in safety. Not so was their conduct. They were brave, hot-blooded, noble men. They could not think of flying and leaving their friends in danger; and more noble and reckless than wise and prudent, they turned and rushed to their assistance. They saw their error, but too late to retrieve it. Their friends had fled, and were safe, but they were now placed within a few paces of three hundred blood-thirsty warriors. On seeing them, the savages uttered the most hideous yells, rushed forward and cut them off from the fort, and then sprung after them, tomahawk in hand. Luckily, however, for our little band of heroes, the Indians had just discharged their rifles, and their own were loaded; by which means, when hard pressed, they turned and kept their foes at bay—the savage, in all cases, being too cautious to rush upon a weapon so deadly, with only a tomahawk wherewith to defend himself. Moreover, the corn was stout and tall, among which they ran and dodged with great agility; and whenever an Indian halted to load his rifle, the fugitive for whom its contents were designed, generally managed, by extra exertion, to gain a safe distance before it was completed, and thus effect his escape. Some five or six, however, were so unfortunate as to be knocked or shot down, when they were immediately tomahawked and scalped; but the remainder, in various directions and by various artifices, succeeded in making their escape. A few reached the fort in a roundabout manner; but the main body of them returned to Lexington; where, had the savages followed them, they would have found an easy conquest. Fortunately for the whites, however, the red men were not so inclined; and pursuing them a few hundred yards only, the latter abandoned the chase as hopeless.

One of the most active and ferocious on the part of the Indians during this skirmish, which lasted nearly an hour, was Simon Girty. Enraged to madness at the failure of his stratagem in the morning, he gnashed his teeth and rushed after the fugitives, with all the fury depicted on his countenance of a demon let loose from the infernal regions of Pluto. Two with his own hand he sent to their last account; and was in hot pursuit of a third—a handsome, active youth—who, being hard pressed, turned round, and raising his rifle to his shoulder, with a scornful smile upon his face, bitterly exclaimed, as he discharged it:

"Take that, you —— renegade, and see how it'll digest!"

As Algernon had stated to Girty, the country was indeed roused to a sense of their danger. The news of the storming of Bryan's Station had spread fast and far; and, early on the day succeeding the attack, reinforcements began to come in from all quarters; so that by noon of the fourth day, the station numbered over one hundred and eighty fighting men.

Colonel Daniel Boone, accompanied by his son Israel, and brother Samuel, commanded a considerable force from Boonesborough—Colonel Stephen Trigg, a large company from Harrodsburgh—and Colonel John Todd, the militia from Lexington. A large portion of these forces was composed of commissioned officers, who, having heard of the attack on Bryan's Station by an overwhelming body of Indians, had hurried to the scene of hostilities, and, like brave and gallant soldiers as they were, had at once taken their places in the ranks as privates. Most noted among those who still held command under the rank of Colonel, were Majors Harlan, McGary, McBride, and Levi Todd; and Captains Bulger, Patterson and Gordon.

Of those now assembled, Colonel Todd, as senior officer, was allowed to take command—though, from the tumultuous council of war which was held in the afternoon, it appears that each had a voice, and that but little order was observed. It was well known that Colonel Benjamin Logan was then in the act of raising a large force in Lincoln county; and at the furthest would join them in twenty-four hours; which would render them safe in pursuing the savages; and for this purpose the more prudent, among whom was our old friend, Colonel Boone, advised their delay; stating, as a reason, that the Indians were known to outnumber them all, as three to one; and that to pursue them with a force so small, could only result, should they be overtaken, in a total defeat of the whites. Besides which, Boone stated that the scouts who had been sent out to examine the Indian trail, had reported that it was very broad, and that the trees on either side had been marked with their tomahawks; thereby showing a willingness on the part of the enemy to be pursued, and a design to draw the whites into an ambuscade, the consequences of which must necessarily be terrible. In this view of the case, Colonel Boone was strongly seconded by Major McGary, who, though a hot-headed young officer, eager on almost all occasions for a fight, now gave his voice on the side of prudence.

But these prudent measures were combatted and overruled by Todd; who, being an ambitious man, forsaw that, in waiting for Logan, he would be deprived of his authority as commander-in-chief of the expedition, and the glory which a successful battle would now cast upon him. By him it was urged, in opposition to Boone and McGary, that to await the arrival of Colonel Logan, was only to act the part of cowards, and allow the Indians a safe retreat; that in case they were overtaken and their numbers found to be double their own—which report he believed to be false—the ardor and superior skill of the Kentuckians would more than make them equal, and the victory and glory would be their own. Whereas, should the Indians be allowed to escape without an effort to harass them, the Kentuckians would be held eternally disgraced in the minds of their countrymen.

The dispute on the matter waxed warm, high words ensued, and the discussion was in a fair way of being drawn out to great extent; when Boone, becoming tired and disgusted with the whole proceedings, replied:

"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."

Boone was not a revengeful man under any circumstances; and though he had felt more stung and nettled at the implication of Todd the day before than he cared to let others see, yet now that the other had made the apology due him, he showed nothing like haughtiness or triumph in his mild, benevolent countenance, but, bowing slightly, with his characteristic frankness replied:

"As you say, Colonel Todd, I've had some little experience with the varmints at different times, not excepting my capter at these same Licks in 1778; and, besides, I've have traversed this here country in every direction, and know every secret hiding-place round about, as well as the rest o' ye know the ground we've jest traveled; and it's on account o' this knowledge partly, and partly on account o' the lazy movements o' them red heathen we've jest seen go over the hill yonder, and the wide trail, and marked trees behind us, that I'm led to opine thar's a tremendous body o' the naked rascals hid in a couple o' ravines, that run down to the river on either side of that ridge, about a mile ahead, who are waiting to take us by surprise. Now I think we'd better do one of two things. Either wait for the reinforcement o' Colonel Logan—who's no doubt on his march by this time to join us—or else divide our party, and let half on 'em go up stream and cross at the rapids, and so get round behind the ravines, ready to attack the savages in the rear; while the rest cross the ford here, and keep straight on along the ridge to attack 'em in front—by which maneuver we may prehaps be able to beat them. But ef you don't see proper, gentlemen, to take up with either o' these proposals—don't, for Heaven's sake! I beg o' ye, venter forward, without first sending on scouts to reconnoitre—else we're likely to be in an ambuscade afore we know it, and prehaps all be cut off."

"Well, all things considered," answered Colonel Todd, who now, becoming aware of the fearful responsibility resting upon him as commander, felt little inclined to press rashly forward, "I think it advisable to wait the reinforcements of Logan before proceeding further. It can delay us but a day or two, and then we shall be sure of a victory; whereas, if we press forward now, and run into an ambuscade, of which Colonel Boone feels certain, we shall doubtless rue the day by a total defeat."

"I'm of the same opinion," rejoined Major Levi Todd.

"And I," said Captain Patterson.

"And I," rejoined several other voices.

"But I'm opposed to waiting for Logan," said Colonel Trigg; "as delays on the point of a battle are rarely ever beneficial. I think we had better take up with Colonel Boone's second proposition—divide our forces, and proceed at once to action; though, for the matter of prudence, it may be advisable to send a couple of scouts ahead, before deciding upon any thing positive."

Majors Harlan and McBride, with two or three others of inferior rank, took sides with Trigg; and the discussion seemed likely to be protracted for some considerable time; when Major Hugh McGary, who had been listening to the proceedings with the utmost impatience, suddenly startled and broke up the council by a loud whoop, resembling that of an Indian; and spurring his high mettled charger forward, he waved his hat over his head, and shouted, in a voice that reached the whole length of the line, these ever memorable words:

"Those among you who are not d—d cowards, follow me! I'll soon show you where the Indians are!"

As he spoke he rushed his fiery steed into the river, with all the rash impetuosity of a desperate soldier charging at the cannon's mouth.

The effect of McGary's words and actions were electrical. The troops, mounted and on foot, officers and privates, suddenly became animated with a wild enthusiasm. Whooping and yelling like Indians, more than a hundred of them now sprung forward, and in a tumultuous body rushed into the stream and struggled for the opposite shore. A few lingered around Boone, Todd, and Twigg, to await their orders. But the pause of these commanders was only momentary. They saw their ranks in confusion, and more than two-thirds of their soldiers in the water, struggling after the hot-headed McGary, and most of the other officers. The mischief was already done. To delay was but to doom their enthusiastic comrades to certain destruction; and shouting to those who yet remained to follow, Todd put spurs to his horse, and, together with Trigg and Boone dashed after the main body. It was a wild scene of excitement. Horsemen and footmen, officers and privates, all mixed up together in confusion, and pushing forward in one "rolling and irregular mass."

By violent threats and repeated exertions, with their swords drawn and flashing in the sunlight, Colonels Todd, Trigg and Boone at length succeeded, after reaching the opposite bank, in restoring something like order to the half-crazed troops. On gaining the brow of the buffalo ridge, Todd commanded a halt; then drawing a pistol from the holster of his saddle, he rode to the front of the lines, and, with eyes flashing fire, exclaimed:

"Men! we must have order! Without order we are lost. I command a halt; and the first man that moves from the ranks, officer or private, until so commanded, I swear to scatter his brains on the land he disgraces!"

His speech produced the desired effect; not a man ventured, by disobeying, to put his threat to the test; and after gazing on them sternly a few moments in silence, he turned to McGary, who was sitting his horse a few paces distant, and said:

"Sir! you have acted unbecoming, both as an officer and a gentleman; and if we two live through an engagement which I fear is near at hand, and which your rashness will have brought about, I will have you put under arrest and tried by court martial."

"As you please, Colonel Todd," replied McGary, with a fierce look. "But you will bear in mind, sir, that at the council yesterday, you scouted at the proposition advanced by Colonel Boone, and seconded by myself and others, of waiting for the reinforcements of Colonel Logan, and insinuated that we were cowards. As you, sir, were so very brave, and so eager for a fight when at a distance, I swore that, if we came where a fight could be had, I would either draw you into action, or forever damn you as a coward in the eyes of your soldiers. If I have succeeded, I rest satisfied to let you do your worst."

"Resume your place, sir! and break an order this day at your peril!" cried Todd, sharply, his face flushed with indignation.

As McGary slowly obeyed, Todd called to Boone, Trigg, and one or two others, with whom he held a short consultation as to the propriety of sending forward scouts before advancing with the main army. This being decided in the affirmative, Isaac Younker and another individual were selected from the ranks, and appointed to go on the dangerous mission; with orders to follow the buffalo trace and examine it carefully on both sides—particularly round about the ravines—and if they saw any traces of Indians, to hasten back with all speed; but if not, to continue their examination for a half mile further on, where the great trace gradually became lost in lesser paths, which branched off in every direction.

Immediately on the departure of these two scouts, the troops were drawn up in a long line, ready for action at a moment's notice. Colonel Trigg commanded the Harrodsburgh forces on the right; Colonel Boone the Boonesborough soldiers on the left; and Colonel Todd, assisted by Majors McGary and McBride, the Lexington militia in the center. Major Harlan led the van, and Major Levi Todd brought up the rear. This was the order in which they went into battle.

In less than an hour, Isaac and his companions returned, and reported that they had seen no signs of Indians whatever. On the receipt of this intelligence, the order to march was immediately given, and the whole body of soldiers, under the scorching rays of an August sun, moved rapidly forward. Nothing occurred to interrupt their progress, until the van had reached within a few yards of the ravines before mentioned, when the appalling truth of a tremendous ambuscade of the savages suddenly became known, by the pouring therefrom, into their ranks, a terrible volley, which carried with it death, terror and confusion. Never were soldiers taken more by surprise, and at greater disadvantage to themselves, both as to numbers and position. They had relied upon the report of the scouts, who had themselves been deceived by the quiet of everything about the ravines; and now here they were, less than two hundred in number, on an open spot, exposed to the deadly rifles of more than five hundred Indian warriors, who were lying concealed among the dark cedars of the ravines.

The first fire was severely destructive, particularly on the right, where the gallant Colonel Trigg fell mortally wounded, and was soon after tomahawked and scalped. With him went down several officers of inferior grade, and a large portion of the Harrodsburgh troops; but, undaunted, his little band of survivors returned the fire of the Indians, and, assisted by those in the rear, pressed forward like heroes to the support of the center and van, where the work of death and carnage was now becoming terrible.

"Onward!" shouted Colonel Todd, as he rode to and fro, animating his men by his voice and gestures: "Onward, my noble soldiers, and strike for your country and firesides! Oh God!" exclaimed he the next moment, as a ball pierced his breast; "I am mortally wounded; but strike! press on, and mind me not!"

As he spoke, he reeled in his saddle, the rein slipped from his grasp, and his fiery steed rushed away, bearing him to the enemy and his untimely doom.

"Fight, my lads, and falter not!" cried Major Harlan in the van; and the next moment his horse went down, some five or six balls lodged in his body, and he fell to rise no more.

But his men remembered their orders, and fought without faltering, until but three remained alive to tell the fate of the party.

"At 'em, lads!—don't spare the varmints!" said Boone, as he urged the left wing into action; and the immediate report of more than fifty rifles in that quarter, told him he was obeyed. In this wing fought Algernon, Isaac, the brother and son of Boone, with a heroic desperation worthy of Spartans; and at every fire an Indian went down before each of their deadly rifles.

But what could avail heroism here on that ill-fated day? Our brave little band of Kentuckians was opposed by a foe of treble their number; who, on their first terrible fire being expended, rushed forth from their covert, with horrible yells, tomahawk in hand, and, gradually extending their lines down the buffalo trace, on either side, so as to cut off the retreat of the whites, closed in upon them in overwhelming numbers, and the slaughter became immense. Major McGary rushed his horse to and fro among the enemy, and shouted and fought with all the desperate impetuosity of his nature. Major Todd did his best to press on the rear, and Colonel Boone still urged his men to the fight with all the backwoods eloquence in his power. But, alas! of what avail was coolness, impetuosity, or desperation now? The Indians were closing in thicker and thicker. Officers and privates, horsemen and footmen, were falling before the destructive fire of their rifles, or sinking beneath their bloody tomahawks, amid yells and screeches the most diabolical. Cries, groans, and curses, resounded on every hand, from the living, the wounded, and dying. But few now remained in command. Colonels Todd and Trigg, Majors Harlan and McBride, Captains Bulger and Gordon, with a host of other gallant officers, were now no more. Already had the Indians enclosed them as in a net, hemmed them in on all sides, and they were falling as grass before the scythe of the mower. Retreat was almost cut off—in a few minutes it would be entirely. They could hope for nothing against such odds, but a certain and bloody death. There was a possibility of escape. A few minutes and it would be too late. They hesitated—they wavered—they turned and fled; and now it was that a horrible sight presented itself.

The space between the head of the ravines and the ford of the river a distance of more than a mile, suddenly became the scene of a hard and bloody race. As the whites fled, the Indians sprung after them, with whoops and yells that more resembled those of infuriated demons than human beings; and whenever an unfortunate Kentuckian was overtaken, he instantly fell a victim to the tomahawk and scalping knife. Those who were mounted generally escaped; but the foot suffered dreadfully; and the whole distance presented an appalling sight of bloody, mangled corses, strewing the ground in every direction. Girty, the renegade, was now at the height of his hellish enjoyment. With oaths and curses, and horrid laughter, his hands and weapons reeking with blood of the slain, he rushed on after new victims, braining and scalping all that came within his reach.

At the river the carnage was in no wise abated. Horsemen and footmen, victors and vanquished, rushed down the slope, pell-mell, and plunged into the stream—some striving for life and liberty, some for death and vengeance—and the dark rolling waters went sweeping on, colored with the blood of the slaughtered.

An act of heroic gallantry and presence of mind here occurred, which has often been mentioned in history, tending to check somewhat the blood-thirsty savages, and give many of the fugitives time to escape. Some twelve or fifteen horsemen had already passed the ford in safety, and were in the act of spurring forward, regardless of the fate of their unfortunate companions on foot, when one of their number, a man by the name of Netherland, who had previously been accused of cowardice, suddenly shouted, as if giving the word of command:

"Halt! Fire on the Indians, and protect the men in the river!"

The order was obeyed, in the same spirit it was given; and the sudden discharge of more than a dozen rifles, made the infuriated savages recoil in dismay, and thereby saved many a poor fellow's life. The reaction, however, speedily followed. Many of the savages now swam the river above and below the ford, and gave chase to the fugitives for fifteen and even twenty miles—though with but little success after crossing the stream—as the latter generally plunged into the neighboring thickets, and so eluded the vigilance of the former.

Such were the general features of the disastrous battle of Blue Licks—a battle of dreadful import to the pioneers of Kentucky—which threw the land into mourning, and made a most solemn and startling impression upon the minds of its inhabitants. Had we space to chronicle individual heroism, we might fill page after page with brave and noble achievements; but as it is, we shall confine ourself to those connected with our most prominent characters.

We have stated previously, that Algernon Reynolds fought in the left wing, under the command of Boone; where, for the few minutes which the action lasted, he sustained himself with great gallantry; and, by his undaunted courage, inspired those immediately around him with like ardor. On the retreat of the whites, he found himself cut off from the river by a large body of Indians, headed by his old foe, Simon Girty, who, having recognized him, was now pressing forward with several stalwart warriors, to again make him prisoner. For the first time since the commencement of the battle, he felt his heart sink. To be taken alive was a thousand times worse than death, and escape seemed impossible. However, there was no time for consideration; another moment might be fatal; his foes were upon him; it was now or never. Luckily he was mounted on a fiery steed—which had thus far escaped a scratch—and had one undischarged pistol in his holster. This he drew forth as his last hope; and, tightening the rein, wheeled his horse and spurred down upon his enemies with tremendous velocity.

"I have you now, by ——!" cried the renegade.

As he spoke, he sprung forward to grasp the bridle of Algernon's horse; but stumbled and fell, and the beast passed over him, unfortunately though without doing him any injury.

But Algernon had not yet got clear of his enemies; for on the fall of Girty, he found himself surrounded by a host of savages, whooping and yelling frightfully, and his direct course to the river cut off by a body of more than a hundred. There was only one point, and that a few yards to his left, where there appeared a possibility of his breaking through their lines. In the twinkling of an eye, and while his horse was yet under full headway, his decision was made. Rushing his steed hard to the right, in order to deceive his foes, he suddenly wheeled him again to the left; and the side of the beast striking against some three or four of the Indians, who were on the point of seizing his rein, staggered them back upon their companions, creating no little confusion. Taking advantage of this, our hero, with the speed of a flying arrow, bore down upon the weakest point; where, after shooting down a powerful savage, who had succeeded in grasping his bridle and was on the point of tomahawking his horse, he passed their lines, amid a volley of rifle balls, which cut his clothes in several places, but left himself and steed unharmed.

The worst of the danger now seemed over; but still his road ahead was beset with Indians, who were killing and scalping all that fell in their power; and behind him were the infuriated renegade and his party now in hot pursuit. His steed, however, was strong and fleet, and he put him to his wind; by which means he not only distanced those behind him, but passed one or two parties in front unharmed. About half way between the ravines and the river, he overtook Major McGary, and some five or six other horsemen, who were dashing forward at a fast gallop; and checking his fiery beast somewhat, he silently joined them. A little further on, Reynolds observed an officer on foot, who, exhausted by his recent exertions, and lame from former wounds, had fallen behind his companions. On coming up, he recognized in the crippled soldier the brave Captain Patterson; and with a magnanimity and self-sacrifice worthy of all imitation, he instantly reined in his horse and dismounted, while the others kept upon their course.

"Sir!" cried he to Patterson; "you are, I perceive, fatigued and weak. Your life is in great danger. Mount, sir—mount! I am fresh and will take my chance on foot."

"God bless you, sir!—God bless you for this noble act!" exclaimed Patterson, as Reynolds assisted him, into the saddle. "If I escape—"

"Enough!" said Reynolds, hurriedly, interrupting him. "Fly, sir—fly! God be with you! Adieu!"

And turning away as he spoke, he sprung down the side of the ridge, and running along the edge of the river some little distance, plunged into the water and swam to the opposite shore. Unfortunately for our hero, he had changed his garments at Bryan's Station, and now wore a pair of buckskin breeches, which, in swimming the stream, had become so soaked and heavy that he was obliged to remove them in order to display his usual agility. While seated upon the bank and occupied in this manner, he was startled by a hand being placed upon his shoulder, and the familiar grunt of an Indian sounding in his ear. On looking up, he at once recognized the grim features of Wild-cat, and saw himself in the power of some half a dozen savages.

"Me wanty you," said Wild-cat, quietly. "Kitchokema give much for Long Knife. Come!"