WITH GEORGE WASHINGTON INTO
THE WILDERNESS

The American Trail Blazers

“THE STORY GRIPS AND THE HISTORY STICKS”

These books present in the form of vivid and fascinating fiction, the early and adventurous phases of American history. Each volume deals with the life and adventures of one of the great men who made that history, or with some one great event in which, perhaps, several heroic characters were involved. The stories, though based upon accurate historical fact, are rich in color, full of dramatic action, and appeal to the imagination of the red-blooded man or boy.

Each volume illustrated in color and black and white.

• INTO MEXICO WITH GENERAL SCOTT
• LOST WITH LIEUTENANT PIKE
• GENERAL CROOK AND THE FIGHTING APACHES
• OPENING THE WEST WITH LEWIS AND CLARK
• WITH CARSON AND FREMONT
• DANIEL BOONE: BACKWOODSMAN
• BUFFALO BILL AND THE OVERLAND TRAIL
• CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH
• DAVID CROCKETT: SCOUT
• ON THE PLAINS WITH CUSTER
• GOLD SEEKERS OF ’49
• WITH SAM HOUSTON IN TEXAS
• WITH GEORGE WASHINGTON INTO THE WILDERNESS

[“MY NAME IS GEORGE WASHINGTON”]

WITH
GEORGE WASHINGTON
INTO THE WILDERNESS

THE ADVENTURES OF ROBERT THE HUNTER WHILE HE WAS LEARNING TO BE A NEW AMERICAN UNDER THE YOUNG CHIEF, GEORGE WASHINGTON, WHEN THE OHIO COUNTRY WAS GAINED FOR THE ENGLISH-SPEAKING PEOPLE AND WASHINGTON HIMSELF WON THE RIGHT TO HIGH COMMAND IN WAR AND PEACE

BY
EDWIN L. SABIN

AUTHOR OF “WITH CARSON AND FREMONT,” “BUFFALO
BILL AND THE OVERLAND TRAIL,” ETC.

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
WILL THOMSON
PORTRAIT AND MAP

PHILADELPHIA & LONDON
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
1924

COPYRIGHT, 1924, BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY

PRINTED BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
AT THE WASHINGTON SQUARE PRESS
PHILADELPHIA, U. S. A.

TO THE

AMERICAN VOLUNTEER SOLDIER

WHO FROM THE DAYS OF THE “RAW PROVINCIALS” TO THE DAYS OF THE KHAKI “YANKS” HAS EMULATED THE SPIRIT OF YOUNG GEORGE WASHINGTON IN THE SERVICE OF HIS COUNTRY

“I shall have the consolation of knowing that I have opened the way, when the smallness of our numbers exposed us to the attacks of a superior enemy; that I have hitherto stood the heat and brunt of the day, and escaped untouched in time of extreme danger; and that I have the thanks of my country, for the services I have rendered it.”

Colonel George Washington,
November 15, 1754

PREFACE

This story centres upon the early frontier and military career of George Washington, introducing him as the sixteen-year-old surveyor, and closing when at the age of twenty-six he married and retired, for a time, from public service. During that period, 1748–1758 inclusive, the Ohio Country, that interior west of the Alleghany Mountains, was wrested from France. The narrative deals with the youth Washington’s trip through three hundred miles of wilderness to the French forts near Lake Erie; his expedition to invest the Forks of the Ohio where the French were establishing Fort Duquesne; his service with the Braddock column; and his service under General Forbes when Fort Duquesne was taken at last. His courage as commissioner to the French at Lake Erie, his first victory, his defense of Fort Necessity, his performances upon Braddock’s Field, his endurance and fine spirit, are featured. All this was the training that demonstrated his fitness for command in the War of Independence. His companion hero of the story is a boy, Robert the Hunter, son of Mary Harris the White Woman and Feather Eagle a Delaware, but adopted by Tanacharison the Half-King of the Mingos upon the Ohio. Christopher Gist, the famous chief Scarouady, George Croghan, Andrew Montour, Captain Joncaire, Captain Jack the Black Rifle, Shingis the Delaware, Pontiac, and other historic border characters figure, as well as Doctor Craik, old Lord Fairfax, Vanbraam, and others of Washington’s personal confederates.

FOREWORD

George Washington did not spring into fame and success at one bound. That which he won he deserved. He is most widely known as the patriotic commander of the American armies in the War of Independence and as the wise first President of the United States. But he was chosen because of the things that he had already done.

If George Washington had not proved his character and his wisdom in his early campaigns and councils it is likely that another man would have been appointed commander-in-chief when the War of Independence opened; and indeed history might have been much changed as to names and events. Who may say? Washington, however, had an earned reputation; his work in the wilderness had verified his courage, patience, unselfishness, good sense and fine honor, and his military mettle. His companions upon the trail and the soldiers in his companies had confidence in young George Washington. The people saw that he was prepared for the greater commands.

The services that engaged him were also of deep importance. If the present United States, west of the Alleghany Mountains of Western Pennsylvania had remained French territory, the country facing the Atlantic Ocean might have remained a colony of Great Britain instead of expanding into the United States. At best, the Atlantic coast would have been a small and weak nation. When France lost the interior to England then the American colonies broadened and gained strength of mind and means until they decided to shift for themselves.

CONTENTS

ILLUSTRATIONS

WASHINGTON AT THE AGE OF TWENTY-FIVE

GEORGE WASHINGTON

1732. Born about ten o’clock in the morning of February 22nd (by the calendar of those days, February 11th), upon the old Washington plantation of Wakefield bordering the Potomac River between Bridges’ and Pope’s Creek in Westmoreland County of the Colony of Virginia’s “Northern Neck”—the peninsula formed by the Potomac and Rappahannock Rivers. Father, Augustine Washington; mother, Mary Ball Washington, second wife. The Washington family was of good English stock dating back to the Thirteenth Century, and had a long roll of scholars and valiant soldiers. George Washington’s great-grandfather, John Washington, had settled here in Westmoreland County in 1657. When George was born he had two half-brothers, Lawrence and Augustine. He was followed by five brothers and sisters—Elizabeth, Samuel, John Augustine, Charles and Mildred.

1735. The family moves to another plantation at Hunting Creek, fifty miles northward up the Potomac. This plantation was called Washington, and later was named Mount Vernon.

1739. When George is seven the family moves again, this time down to Stafford along the east side of the Rappahannock River, opposite the town of Fredericksburg.

1743. George’s father dies, aged forty-nine, when George is eleven. He leaves a widow and seven children: George’s two elder half-brothers, Lawrence and Augustine, and the younger sister and brothers—Betty, Samuel, John Augustine and Charles. George is willed the Stafford plantation; other plantations and properties are willed to the other children. The mother is guardian.

1743–1745. George continues his schooling which first was under the direction of a church sexton, Mr. Grove, whom the boys called “Hobby,” at the Stafford plantation; and next under Mr. Williams, near Wakefield where, after his father’s death, George lives for a time with Augustine, its owner. By his mother he is taught religion and courtesies. From his father, a very powerful man, he inherits great strength, so that he is a leader in athletics. He is a fearless horseback-rider and is fond of hunting and fishing and playing at soldier. In mathematics he is good, in grammar and spelling and language not good; but he pays much attention to copying business forms and is neat in his papers. He likes the problems and out-door life of land surveying.

1746. At fourteen he decides to go to sea and become a merchant captain or an officer in the British Navy. But his mother opposes, and at the last moment he yields to her. He attends school kept by the Reverend James Marye, a Frenchman, in Fredericksburg.

1747. Leaving school he lives with his half-brother Lawrence upon the Mount Vernon plantation. Lawrence had married a daughter of William Fairfax of Belvoir, up-river from Mount Vernon. The Fairfax family was distinguished in England and in Virginia. At Belvoir there was also Lord Thomas Fairfax, elder brother of William Fairfax, recently arrived from London to enjoy his vast estate of 5,700,000 acres of Virginia lands. The boy George Washington is much at Belvoir, and Lord Fairfax takes a great liking for him.

1748. In March, having just turned his seventeenth year, George is appointed by Lord Fairfax to survey the immense tract of land which as yet has scarcely been explored. He sets out with only George William Fairfax, the twenty-two-year-old son of William Fairfax, and the two spend a month in the Virginia wilderness.

1749. In July, George Washington, now seventeen years of age, is appointed public surveyor of Virginia lands. This engages him through two years; he is out for weeks at a time, in all kinds of weather, and grows accustomed to hardships, woods lore and Indian ways. Between whiles he is frequently at Greenway Court, Lord Fairfax’s residence seat near Winchester, Frederick County, where he studies and hunts with his old friend; he visits his brothers and his mother.

1751. At the age of nineteen he is commissioned by the Governor of Virginia as an adjutant-general, with rank of Major, in charge of a district of the Colonial Militia. His brother Lawrence, who had served with a British regiment in the West Indies and the Spanish Main, and was adjutant-general in Virginia, recommended him. This suits George. He studies military science and fencing.

1751–1752. In September of 1751 Lawrence Washington sails for Barbadoes of the British West Indies, to gain health. George, who loves him dearly, goes with him. At Barbadoes George is stricken with the smallpox, which scars his face. He returns in the winter to Virginia, to escort his brother’s wife to the Bermudas in the spring and there meet Lawrence. But Lawrence cannot wait, and comes home.

1752. This summer Lawrence dies at Mount Vernon. He wills the plantation to his little daughter, and as executor of the estate George remains there to oversee the business. Aged twenty, he is now appointed by Governor Dinwiddie of Virginia as adjutant-general of the northern military division which covers several counties.

1753. Major George Washington, aged twenty-one, is sent by Governor Dinwiddie as a commissioner to inquire into the French invasion of the Ohio River country in the northwest; for the French soldiers from Canada were building a line of forts from Lake Erie down along the Ohio River in territory claimed by Great Britain. Major Washington was to travel almost 600 miles through the wilderness, and find the French commander. He leaves Williamsburg, the Virginia capital, on the last day of October. He takes with him Christopher Gist as guide, John Davidson as Indian interpreter, Jacob Vanbraam, who had been a soldier and was a fencing master, to speak French, and four others. After a journey of forty-five days he arrives at the French headquarters post fifteen miles south of Lake Erie. On the way he notes that the “Forks of the Ohio,” where the Allegheny and Monongahela Rivers join in present western Pennsylvania, is a fine site for a fort.

1754. In January Major George Washington is back to report to Governor Dinwiddie at Williamsburg that the French refuse to withdraw from their line of posts. An expedition is organized to build a British post at the Forks of the Ohio. Major Washington is commissioned lieutenant-colonel, as second in command. In April he marches with three companies to support a detachment already gone. The detachment is driven from the Forks by the French, and as commander in the field, Lieutenant-Colonel Washington entrenches at Great Meadows, short of the Forks. On May 28th he surprises a French and Indian detachment and defeats it. This is his first battle; he is twenty-two years old. Having been reinforced to 400 men, at Great Meadows he erects a log fort named Fort Necessity, in order to hold fast, and on July 3rd is attacked by 900 French and Indians. This night terms are made by which the garrison should march out with the honors of war. On July 4th Fort Necessity is abandoned to the French. The French build Fort Duquesne at the Forks of the Ohio.

1755. After the affair at Great Meadows the Colonial troops lacked men and supplies and money. Washington protests against another campaign until strength and weather permit. This spring General Edward Braddock of the British Regulars arrives to lead a force of Regulars and Colonials against Fort Duquesne. George Washington is invited to join him as aide, with rank of captain. The expedition is defeated by the French and Indians near Fort Duquesne, July 9th, in a terrible battle. General Braddock is fatally wounded, and Colonel George Washington behaves “with the greatest courage and resolution;” has two horses shot from under him and four balls through his coat.

1755–1757. Following the battle of Braddock’s Field, Colonel Washington continues to live at beautiful Mount Vernon, to which he has fallen heir. He is soon appointed by the Virginia legislature to the command of all the Virginia militia. He is kept busy organizing the troops and inspecting the outposts.

1758. Having recovered from a long illness extending into March, in July he marches his Virginia regiments to take part in another expedition, this time under General Forbes, against Fort Duquesne. He leads the advance, but the fort is deserted by the enemy. The name is changed to Fort Pitt, which becomes Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. At the close of this year Washington again retires to private life.

1759. Not quite twenty-seven years old, he is married, January 6th, to Mrs. Martha Custis, daughter of John Dandridge and widow of John Parke Custis, with two children. She is three months younger than George Washington, and wealthy in her own rights.

1759–1769. Having been elected to the Virginia House of Burgesses, or the Colonial legislature, Colonel Washington serves there. He resides at Mount Vernon, and devotes his private life to the business of his plantation, to hunting and riding, and to mingling in local society and in that of Williamsburg the capital and Annapolis the capital of Maryland. In business he is very strict, keeping full account of all transactions and shipping his tobacco to England.

1770. This fall he makes a trip, horseback, to the Forks of the Ohio again, where a few cabins around Fort Pitt mark the beginning of Pittsburgh; thence down the Ohio for 255 miles by canoe, inspecting the western lands granted to soldiers of the French and Indian War with Great Britain.

1771–1774. The American Colonies have been protesting against the Acts of the British Parliament which worked hardships upon them. In September, 1774, George Washington, aged forty-two, is a delegate from Virginia to a general Congress held at Philadelphia for the purpose of drawing up petitions of rights. Patrick Henry says that in “solid information and sound judgment” Colonel Washington was the greatest man on the floor.

1775. War with Great Britain having commenced, on June 15th the Second Continental Congress in session at Philadelphia appoints George Washington commander-in-chief of the American military forces. He takes command July 3rd, with rank of general.

1775–1782. Serves as commander-in-chief of the American army in the War of the Revolution.

1783. In October General Washington issues his Farewell Address to the army. December 4th he bids his officers goodby, in person, at Harlem, New York. December 23rd he resigns his commission, in the temporary Hall of Congress at Annapolis. December 24th he arrives home at Mount Vernon, having been absent over eight years.

1784–1786. He declines to be paid for his expenses during the war, and wishes no reward, but settles down to home and business life. His advice is much sought. He entertains many visitors, among them Lafayette; and makes a tour west to the Ohio River once more.

1787. In May he is a delegate from Virginia to the General Convention in Philadelphia to draw up a Constitution of the United States; and is chosen president of the convention.

1789. In February George Washington, aged fifty-seven, is unanimous choice of the people for first President of the United States. On March 4th the election is ratified. He is at once notified by messenger from Congress, and on March 6th he leaves Mount Vernon for New York, then the seat of Congress. He takes oath of office April 30th, and delivers his inaugural address. His mother, aged eighty-two years, dies in August. This same year he suffers a serious illness from which he never completely recovers.

1790. By his advice the present District of Columbia is selected as the site of the National Capital. He is again ill. While President he keeps close track of his plantation interests and is a student of farming methods. He looks forward to retiring to his beloved Mount Vernon.

1791. He defines the site and marks the boundaries of the new National Capital district, ten miles square, to be named Washington.

1793. The welfare of the nation demands that he remain President, and on March 4th he enters upon his second term of office.

1793–1797. Washington continues as wise and able President. In 1796 Lafayette’s son, George Washington Lafayette, comes to the United States and for a year and a half is a member of Washington’s household.

1797. Having declined nomination to a third term of office, and having, on September 15, 1796, issued a Farewell Address to the people of the United States, on March 4th, 1797, Washington retires from the Presidency and is succeeded by Thomas Jefferson.^{[see Tr. Notes]}

1798. At Mount Vernon Washington has been following the peaceful routine of a farmer. War with France threatens, and in July he is nominated lieutenant-general and commander-in-chief of an army to be raised. He accepts and applies himself to organizing the army.

1799. December 12 he is wet and chilled with snow while riding over his land. After only twenty-four hours in bed he dies between ten and eleven o’clock at night, December 14th. December 18th he is laid to rest in the family vault at Mount Vernon. His age was sixty-seven years and ten months lacking a week.

’Tis nobly done—the day’s our own—huzzah, huzzah!

WILDERNESS TRAILS OF YOUNG GEORGE WASHINGTON

WITH GEORGE WASHINGTON
INTO THE WILDERNESS

I
ROBERT THE HUNTER MAKES DISCOVERIES

It had been raining with a cold spring rain for two days, and the vast forest here in southern Pennsylvania of 1748 was dripping and soggy. The Indians did not mind; they were well greased with bear’s grease and well painted, and their skin scarcely felt the wet. Besides, they were in a hurry.

Robert, whose Seneca name was the Hunter, did not mind it either. He also was Indian. To be sure, his mother was called the White Woman. But she had been captured forty years ago, when a little girl, by the Mohawks of the French from the north, and had been traded south, and had become the wife to Chief Feather Eagle of the Delawares in the Ohio Country.

So Robert had been brought up as an Indian boy. When his father had died the great Tan-a-char-i-son, head chief of all the Mingo Iroquois and known as Half-King, passing by White Woman’s Creek on return home from a visit to the Shawnees in the west, had taken him to train him as a warrior.

To a warrior there is no weather. Heat and cold, dry and wet, they are the same to a warrior, especially a Mingo warrior of the Six Nations who have council-seats in the Long House of the proud Iroquois.

Less than a moon ago, at Logstown which was the principal village of the Mingos, upon the Ohio River, Half-King had said to Robert the Hunter:

“Listen: Tomorrow White Thunder bears a speech belt to our brothers the Delawares near the Susquehanna and I wish you to go with him. You will learn much; and if you are to be a warrior it is well that you should know your way through the woods and across the mountains.”

From that Logstown upon the north bank of the upper Ohio—the Ohion-hiio or Beautiful River—seventeen or eighteen miles down from where Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, now stands, Robert had set out with White Thunder the Keeper of the Mingo wampum belts, and with Aroas or Silver Heels the warrior, to travel afoot eastward through the forests and mountains for the Delawares of central Pennsylvania.

The Mingos were those Oneidas, Senecas and others of the Iroquois Six Nations who had moved from New York into Western Pennsylvania which the Iroquois claimed to have conquered. They thought little of the Delawares. The Iroquois had claimed to have conquered the Delawares also, and called them “women.” But all the Indian peoples—Iroquois, Delawares, Shawnees, Wyandots, Miamis—had been invited to meet the English in council at Albany, the capital of New York, this coming June, to talk peace again. Therefore Half-King Tanacharison wisely wished to learn what the Delawares to the east of him were going to do.

Now this was no small journey, although, of course, it was nothing to an Indian. Nobody except Indians and birds and beasts lived in that country, and the only white persons to cross it were the traders. But the game such as bear, deer and turkeys was plentiful, and the three travellers from Logstown had meat at every camp.

Little happened during the first half of the trip. Then, on a sudden in a cloudy day, Aroas, who was leading with gun in hand, stopped short.

“Wah!” he said, to White Thunder. “This is it.”

“Yes,” replied White Thunder, stopping also. “This is it. It is alive?”

“Men have passed,” said Silver Heels. “And not long ago.”

They both studied the trail. The trail was a narrow one, wending right on amid the great trees of the silent, sunless forest. Something about the trail, and the manner with which Aroas and White Thunder held back from it struck the Hunter like a sensation of lurking death.

They two were bending forward, reading the trail. The Hunter himself could see that there were tracks in it—moccasin tracks lightly printed upon the soft soil and pressing twigs into the mud and leaves.

“Do we fear the Delaware?” he asked.

“No,” answered White Thunder. “This is not their land. The land once given to them by the Iroquois has flowed through their stomachs, for they sold it to the English for rum. They wear petticoats. Here is a danger trail.”

“What is that?”

“It is the Catawba Trail. Be silent.”

The Catawba Trail! There was war between the Catawbas and the Pennsylvania Indians. The fierce Catawbas lived in the south, near the Cherokees. They were not many, but they sent warriors from South Carolina up through Virginia and Maryland into Ohio, Pennsylvania, and clear into New York to attack the Shawnees, the Wyandots, the Delawares and the Iroquois.

This much Robert the Hunter knew. Evidently Catawbas had passed here. He waited while Aroas and White Thunder, speaking low, discussed matters.

“Catawba moccasins. I think not many,” said Aroas.

“They stepped each in the other’s track, but the tracks are not deep,” White Thunder agreed. “The leaves and twigs are still flat; the break in this piece of rotten wood is fresh. The Catawba passed an hour ago.”

“Wah!” said Aroas. “That is good. Come.”

He leaped over the trail; White Thunder leaped; and the Hunter, without asking why that was done, also leaped. Now Aroas again led through the forest, travelling rapidly so that Robert, at the end of the single file, was kept at a little trot.

All the afternoon they hurried, hurried, without speaking, through the dense forest, into ravines and out, up hill and down, until at dusk Silver Heels halted, with hand raised. He went forward alone, and bent to examine the ground. He came back.

“We are ahead,” he said.

“The trail is empty?”

“Yes.”

“Good!” exclaimed White Thunder. “This is the place. We will stay.”

The “place” proved to be a nearby ledge of rock. It overhung at one side, making a roof; beneath the roof the ground was dry and soft with leaves blown in, and leaves were massed into a bed as though a panther or other wild animal had lain upon them.

In here they three could sit. They did sit, and munched cold deer meat and corn cake, while in the dark forest wolves began to howl and many things rustled.

Neither Silver Heels nor White Thunder made a fire, by which the Hunter understood that enemies might be near.

“Let us drink,” said White Thunder. “Then sleep. We must be up before daylight.” And he added, to Robert, “Follow Aroas and do as he does.”

A little stream sounded not far away, in the night. Silver Heels went out, on a half circle, to the stream; and lying down drank, and the Hunter drank beside him. Ah, but that cold water was good, for they had not drunk since noon.

They met White Thunder, coming to drink. Then they rolled in their blankets, upon the leaves of the shallow cave, to sleep. But White Thunder spoke:

“The boy should know, so that he will wake and be ready for the thing that will happen.”

“That is right,” replied Aroas. “You should tell him about the Catawba. Some day he will fight the Catawba.”

“Listen, boy,” said White Thunder: “Now we sleep beside the Catawba Trail. We left the trail, and we have come to it again. First the Catawba were ahead of us; now they are behind us. Since the day of the first man and woman the Catawba and Cherokee have fought us who live in the north. This trail is the great war trail upon which the Catawba travel. I will tell you why we did not follow it, but jumped across it and went around.

“A long time ago the Catawba marched into the country of the Delaware. They found a Delaware camp. They tied buffalo hoofs to their feet and made buffalo tracks in the snow. Then in the morning the Delaware saw the buffalo tracks, and followed to hunt meat. The Catawba surprised them, and killed many and ran off with the scalps. The Delaware from the camp gave chase, for the trail was plain. But the Catawba had set sharp splinters dipped in snake poison in the trail, and the Delaware stepped on these and were made sick. Then the Catawba turned about and caught the Delaware and killed more.

“The Catawba are cunning. Their minds are full of evil tricks. To hunt the Catawba is more dangerous than hunting the panther or the mother bear. When you see a Catawba trail, be very careful of it. Now in the morning we rise early, to be ready. The Catawba are not many. They shall run home weeping.”

By his snores Silver Heels was asleep before White Thunder had finished. White Thunder himself went to sleep right away. And the Hunter, with White Thunder’s words in his mind, fell asleep too, and dreamed of the dread Catawba from the south.

Aroas and White Thunder were up early, when the birds were first twittering and the wolves were slinking to their dens after the night’s hunt.

“Wake. You may come,” said White Thunder to Robert the Hunter, shaking him by the shoulder. “It is time.”

They crawled out of their own den, and climbed on top of the ledge. The top was flat and screened by low bushes. Here they lay, with the Hunter just behind.

The gloom of the forest gradually thinned. Birds began to flit. A raccoon passed, humping to his hollow tree. The dawn swiftly brightened. Squirrels chattered. Then one discovered the three persons upon the top of the ledge. He sat upon a branch and scolded angrily.

“Brother!” Aroas hissed. “Go! We mean you no harm.”

The squirrel only whisked hither and thither, still scolding, so that he disturbed the forest. White Thunder spoke to Robert.

“That squirrel is a fool. He must be silenced. Shoot him.”

The Hunter strung his bow and fitted an arrow to the string. Sitting up he drew and aimed; he loosed. The bow twanged, the blunt arrow streaked through the air and with a thud knocked the squirrel far.

“Wah!” uttered Aroas. “That was well done.”

The sun was about to rise. Peering ahead, as Silver Heels and White Thunder were peering, Robert could see the Catawba Trail which opened clearly and crossed the stream down there in front of the ledge. Now a doe came, mincing and craning, through the trees. She did not smell them, for she paused at the stream, and drank. Suddenly she lifted her head, with long ears set forward, and sniffed. She wheeled about and away she leaped, and was gone.

“They come,” whispered White Thunder to Aroas. The two cocked their muskets, and settled motionless; and behind them Robert the Hunter glued more flatly, his heart beating.

Nothing was to be heard, for a few minutes. Then around a curve of the narrow trail a warrior trotted, and another and another. The Catawbas! There were six dark, round-faced men, in red-fringed buckskin, with turkey-feathered head-dresses and with guns. This was the first time that the Hunter had seen a Catawba.

Before they arrived at the stream they stopped. They seemed to suspect the ledge as an ambush place. But Aroas gave the call of a blue-jay, as if the blue-jay were seeing the Catawbas and was giving an alarm. The jay had not cried before. The Catawbas would think they were the only strangers here. They came on.

The muskets of White Thunder and Silver Heels had been thrust forward. The first Catawba stooped, to drink at the stream, when with a terrible whoop White Thunder fired. Aroas whooped and fired. Robert the Hunter whooped and sent an arrow whizzing. All the forest echoed to the whoops and the shots, as if a dozen men had attacked; and still whooping while they reloaded in a jiffy, drawing their hatchets White Thunder and Aroas ran boldly down. But the Catawbas had vanished; the last of them could just be heard bolting through the brush up the trail. The warrior at whom White Thunder had fired lay at the edge of the stream; the warrior at whom Aroas had fired had left blood.

“Wah!” exclaimed Aroas. “Let him go.”

“And we will go, too, before they stop to think,” said White Thunder. So he took the scalp of the dead Catawba. Then, they hurried on, and travelled all day without a stop.

White Thunder delivered the wampum belt to the Delawares of the Susquehanna. They promised to join the Mingos in the march to the Albany council. This promise was made quickly, for the trophy of the Catawba scalp spread excitement. As soon as the Delawares learned that the Catawbas were in the country they made ready to pursue, on the war trail.

Big Bear commanded the Delawares. The Mingos were invited to join, and travel home that way. So they all set out, to see what had become of the Catawbas.

The forest seemed peaceful again. It was hard to believe that danger lurked among the trees, but the scalp at White Thunder’s belt showed what might happen at any moment.

In the second night the rain commenced; and when they wakened at daybreak they were wet and the forest was wet and soon the trails would be washed bare.

“This is bad,” said Big Bear. “But we will go on and maybe the rain will stop. If it doesn’t, our guns will be wet and we will be blind, and the Catawba will get away.”

The rain did not stop. At noon they halted, to talk.

“I feel that somebody is following us,” said Aroas, to Big Bear. “We should be careful.”

“The Mingo is thinking of his wife and a lodge fire,” answered Big Bear. “He hears the rain drip and it sounds to him like the feet of a Catawba. But the Delaware mean to strike the Catawba.”

“Just the same,” insisted Aroas, “there are enemy near. The Delaware have seen that the Mingo are not afraid, but these woods are full of evil.”

And even while he was speaking a gun cracked and with a screech a Delaware warrior sprang high and fell flat. In an instant everybody had dived behind a tree. From his tree trunk the Hunter, squatting low like a partridge, listened breathlessly. A Delaware, peeking, suddenly pointed his gun, and fired—and in the same moment a gun answered him and he dropped, shot through the head. A man yelled loudly, and darted backward into the brush. Robert glimpsed him—a large man, with long black hair and dark skin, in leggins and hunting shirt and fur cap. That was not an Indian. Big Bear leaped forward, and his gun only snapped upon the flint, for the priming was wet.

He stopped and ducked just in time; a bullet must have sped over him. Now the Delawares were crying—“The Black Rifle! It is death! Run!” Run they did, Big Bear the same as the others, and the Mingos and Robert following.

They ran helter skelter, much as the Catawbas had run when surprised. At last they stopped, and gathered again.

“You said truly, brother,” Big Bear panted, to Aroas. “The Black Rifle was upon our trail. Now we have lost two warriors. Wah! But he is not a man; he is a demon.”

“We have heard of the Black Hunter,” said White Thunder. “He is like death on the trail of the Indian. He strikes to kill, like the wounded bear. The Delaware have lost many warriors to the Black Hunter of the Juniata.”

And Robert himself had heard of Captain Jack, the giant settler who roamed the Pennsylvania woods, killing Indians in revenge for his family whom Indians had killed. The “Black Rifle” and the “Black Hunter” were the names given him. He feared nothing, no bullet could hurt him; he always struck before he was seen. It was small wonder that the Delawares ran to save their lives.

“The way home is closed,” Big Bear was saying. “But there will be English in the south, and blood shall pay for blood.”

“No. Your talk is wild talk,” White Thunder opposed. “You will do foolish to go against the English, and break the chain of friendship.”

“The Black Rifle is English, and two fresh Delaware scalps are hanging at his belt,” Big Bear retorted. “Why should we not kill the English?”

“The Black Rifle did it; not the English. He is a mad dog. The English are friends of the Mingo. They are welcome at Logstown. They will help us against the French who claim the country of the Ohio.”

“The English are driving the Delaware from the land granted them by the first father called Penn,” Big Bear answered. “Soon there will be only the Ohio Country in the west for the Delaware. The Delaware would rather have the French. The French do not take land; they give it. The English build forts and houses and clear off the land and there is no game, no place for the Indian. They shoot us. They call the Indians, dogs. The French leave things as they are; they ask the Indian to live near and hunt; they call the Indian, brother.”

“The friendship chain between the English and the Six Nations is strong,” said White Thunder. “The men of Onontio (which was the name for the French governor of Canada) are not wanted on the Ohio. The English bring us goods and that is enough.”

“We hear that the English claim all the land on one side of the Ohio and the French claim all the land on the other side,” replied Big Bear. “Then where does the Indian’s land lie? But seeing you will not strike the English with us, we will all go on to the trading house of the Englishman Cresap on the River Potomac. He will give us presents and fire-water to keep out the wet.”

That was all right. The Delawares and the Mingos with Robert the Hunter marched on through the rain. The Black Rifle and the rain had spoiled the war trail and the hearts of the Delawares were heavy.

The law of the forest seemed to be tit for tat. The Indians killed other Indians and white persons; the white men killed Indians. As to the French, Robert knew little, except he had heard that the French, who lived in the north, would shut the English traders from the Ohio Country.

They hastened southward, and the next noon a scout came back with word that he had seen a company of English. In these years before the War of the Revolution all the white men of the Colonies were English to the Indian, for America was a British province.

“How many?” asked Big Bear.

“The fingers of two hands.”

“What are they doing?”

“They are camped in the rain above the house of the Englishman Cresap.”

“Our guns are wet,” Big Bear said. “It is a bad time to fight. Let us go in to them. We will tell them we are poor and they will give us food and drink.”

They went on. The rain stopped. In the middle of the afternoon they sighted the Englishmen’s camp in a clearing of the forest upon the north bank of the upper Potomac of northern Maryland.

Then they whooped the scalp whoop and ran in. The English were eight Long Knives of Virginia, and stayed firm. Trader Cresap was here; two of the others were young; and when Big Bear asked who was the captain, Trader Cresap pointed to the younger of the two.

This captain appeared to be few in years, but was large and well formed, and had the grave air of a chief.

“Wah! A boy!” White Thunder grunted.

Big Bear shook hands with the boy, intending to grip him hard and make him cry out, which was an Indian joke. Instead it was Big Bear who cried out, astonished, for the young Englishman had gripped him first and had squeezed his hand so that the bones were almost crushed.

“Ugh!” Big Bear exclaimed. “A strong boy. As strong as a man.”

After they had shown the Catawba scalp and had received presents, Big Bear ordered a war dance, to celebrate the scalp. They built a large fire and all sat around while Big Bear made a speech, telling of the deeds of the Delawares and of the love they had for the English. Then the dance began, and so did the music. One warrior thumped a deer hide stretched tightly over a pot half full of water; and another shook a rattle, of a dry gourd with shot inside it and a horse tail tied to it. The other Delawares, and Silver Heels, pranced around the fire, whooping.

White Thunder and Robert the Hunter looked on, with the English. The English, especially the young captain, were much pleased, for it was a fine dance.

After a time the young captain moved and sat beside White Thunder and Robert, as if curious to ask questions. The friend whom he had left was slender and tall and handsome, in three-cornered hat and red wool blanket-coat and decorated leather belt and deerskin trousers and knee boots. His name was Fairfax. The young captain himself was not so handsome; but he had steady blue eyes and large, straight nose, and a kind, but sober face tanned brown; and he was as heavy and as muscular as White Thunder.

He wore three-cornered hat, deer-hide shirt and cloth trousers and moccasins. Like his friend he was very different from the English traders who came with pack horse and canoe to Logstown of the Mingos.

He kept glancing at Robert. What he saw was a hard, wiry boy, in beaded hunting-shirt and leggins and moccasins, with bow and otter-skin quiver, and black eyes and long brown hair and skin as brown as an Indian’s, and both cheeks painted with a red dot in a blue circle—a Mingo sign that Robert thought very becoming.

“Your boy?” the young captain asked of White Thunder.

And White Thunder, the Keeper of Wampum, who spoke English, said:

“No. Belong Tanacharison, Half-King.”

“Delaware?”

“No! Seneca. No Delaware. Seneca.”

“Where are you from?”

“Shenango, what English call Logstown, ’way off beyond mountains, on Beautiful River.”

“The Ohio?”

“Yes. What you do here?”

“We make lands,” said the young captain.

“Injun lands?”

“No. English lands.”

“You walk heap ’round?” For that had been the way: to take as much land as one could walk around in a day, and the Indians had lost much land because the white men had cleared a path beforehand and had sent their fastest walkers.

“No,” the young chief answered. “We measure with a steel rope and spy-glass. I am a surveyor.”

“Humph!” said White Thunder. “Pretty soon mebbe you come with spy-glass to make English lands of Injun lands other side mountains.”

“That too is the country of the great king across the water,” answered the young captain. And he asked of Robert, very gravely: “You are Indian?”

“His father Injun, he Injun,” said White Thunder. “Some day he great warrior.”

“What is your name?”

“The Hunter,” said Robert.

“You’re not all Indian. You have white boy’s hair.”

“My mother called the White Woman. But me Injun; Seneca. My father Tanacharison, Half-King. He chief of all the Mingo,” Robert asserted proudly. His father really was not Tanacharison. Tanacharison had only adopted him, but there was no use in saying that.

“Where does your mother live?”

“White Woman Creek, in Shawnee country. I live Logstown with Half-King. Learn to be warrior; then follow war trail.”

“Against the English?”

“No. English are brothers of the Mingo.”

“Are the French not brothers?”

“No,” said Robert the Hunter. “Do not want French.”

“There are English in Logstown?”

“Many. Traders.”

“How old are you?”

“Ten summers.”

“I am sixteen,” said the young English captain. “[My name is George Washington.] Perhaps some day I will be a warrior.”

“You come to your brothers the Mingo?” proposed Robert.

“Maybe I shall,” agreed George Washington. “Wouldn’t you like to stay here and be English?”

“No,” said Robert. “Me Seneca.”

And it seemed to him that to be a Seneca was the best thing in the world, for the Senecas were of the Six Nations and had a council seat in the Long House of the Iroquois. But if the English were like this young chief they were not so bad, either.

The dance was slackening. The young captain moved away to his companions. After the dance the Indians ate and drank again, and made camp in the dusk.

The next day the English broke camp, and marched up river, to cross over. The Indians followed, to watch and to get last presents. George Washington waded far out, driving his horse before him, to swim it. The current tugged at him, and Robert the Hunter brought him a large rock.

“Carry this, to keep feet down,” he said to George Washington. “That Injun way.”

George Washington thanked him politely, and carried the rock. Thus a Seneca boy had showed a white boy what an Indian could do better.

The English all crossed. The Delawares went on, and the Mingos turned for home. And this was the first meeting of Robert the Hunter, whose mother was Mary Harris of White Woman Creek, and of George Washington, the surveyor. But they were to meet again.

“He is a strong young man,” said White Thunder, speaking of Washington. “He will be a chief. He is now marking off lands for the English to live on. Some day he will mark off lands clear to the Ohio. The English will live there, the Injuns will live on the other side, and there will be no place for the French. That is good. When white men fight over Injun land the Injun gets the blows.”

They travelled rapidly into the west; and in due time were at Logstown, where Tanacharison the Half-King heard from White Thunder and from Robert of their adventures.

“What you say of this Washington sounds well,” he uttered, to the Hunter, that night. “But he is only a boy, and so are you. When he grows to a warrior, then let him come to Logstown. Meanwhile the English should send a captain chief with men and big guns to build a great house on the Ohio so that we may trade with them and not be bothered by the French.”

“Why should the French try to drive out the English?” Robert asked.

“Because they also wish the Indian furs. And they wish the Beautiful River and all the land that it waters, from the Great Lakes to the big water south of the home of the Creeks.”

“Did they conquer it?” asked Robert.

“No, the Iroquois have conquered it by conquering the people. The French say that a captain of theirs, many years ago, discovered it by floating down the River Mississippi in the west, in a canoe. He took it for the King of France. But the Indians owned it; they were here first; the French have not conquered the Indians. The Iroquois are the conquerors, and they say that their brothers the English shall trade in this land and that their enemies the French shall stay out. The French have their own country. The Indians and the English have theirs. We are children of the British father, who treats us well. We cannot share our lands with two white nations or pretty soon we shall have nothing. I am telling you these things so that you may understand, and not listen to the foolish words of the Delawares.”

Robert continued to think a great deal about that other boy, George Washington, who asked questions like a boy but acted like a man. If the Long Knife and the Pennsylvania boys were that kind of a boy, so strong and steady, the English beyond the mountains were going to be very powerful when the boys grew up.

George Croghan the trader, and Andrew Montour who spoke for Onas the governor of Pennsylvania, and gay Captain Joncaire of the French, were fine men; but somehow George Washington was different, like a young eagle among hawks, or a young oak in a clearing.

II
ALARM AT LOGSTOWN

Logstown, or Shenango, the head village of the Mingos, was nicely located in a clearing of the forest upon the high north bank of the Ohio River, a half day’s travel below De-ka-na-wi-da—the two-rivers-flowing-together place. This place, where the Monongahela River from the southward and the Allegheny River from the northward joined to form the Ohio or Beautiful River, the English traders called the Forks.

Logstown contained some fifty log cabins and skin and bark lodges and almost three hundred people. Fifteen miles east up the Ohio, on the south bank near the Forks, there was the Delaware village of fiery old King Shingis, sachem of the Delawares. On the Monongahela south of the Forks there was the village of fat old Queen Allaquippa, a woman sachem of the Delawares. Up the Allegheny, on the east bank just north of the Forks there was the village Shanopin’s-town of old King Shanopin, another Delaware sachem. And further north up the Allegheny there was Kittanning, where more Mingos and Delawares lived under command of the Delaware chief named Captain Jacobs.

West from Logstown, down along the Ohio by the Shawnee Trail there were the Delawares of King Beaver, and the Wyandots or Little Mingos of Muskingum, and the Shawnees and Delawares of White Woman’s Creek which was the home of Robert’s mother, and the Shawnees of Sonnioto or Scioto.

All, all this country of the Ohio River was Indian country. But to Robert the Hunter the Logstown of the Mingos was the most important place. He rather doubted whether the Englishmen’s Albany or Philadelphia could equal it.

Tanacharison was the chief man in Logstown. He was about fifty years old, and wise. The Grand Council of the Six Nations, sitting at Onondaga, New York, had appointed him head of the Mingos of the Ohio River country, therefore he ranked as a Half-King among the Iroquois.

Next to him there was Scarouady, or Beyond-the-sky, a chief and orator of the Oneida Mingos. In the Delaware tongue his name was Mona-cath-u-atha, which was the name given to the Half-King also; but he was better known as Scarouady. The English traders called him “Scaddy.”

Anybody who looked upon Scarouady saw a warrior and chief indeed. He was over six feet tall, and straight and sinewy and active. Already he had fought in more than twenty-five battles, so that his leggins and his hunting shirt were fringed with scalp hair. His head was shaven except for the long braided scalp lock, to be taken by the hand that could take it; the chief’s sign, a tail plume of the bald eagle, was thrust through the base of the scalp lock, and the braid was decorated with blue-jay feathers.

Upon his broad chest a tomahawk—the warrior sign—had been tattooed in blue; and the hunter sign, of bow and arrow, had been tattooed upon either cheek.

With his light coppery skin, his high forehead, a large, straight nose set between his wide cheek bones, his black eyes and his firm, thin lips, this was the brave Scarouady, friend to the English and to Robert the Hunter.

Then there was White Thunder or Belt of Wampum, who had a pretty daughter named Bright Lightning; and old Juskakaka or Green Grasshopper, whom the English called “Little Billy;” and Guyasuta or Standing Cross, a famous young warrior; and Aroas or Silver Heels, another Seneca warrior; and other valiant men, all of whom regarded Tanacharison and Scarouady as their leaders.

Here to Logstown came the English traders: John Fraser on his way to his trading house in the Seneca and Delaware town of Venango, sixty miles northward, where he stored his goods and made guns to sell; and John Davidson of the Virginia Long Knives, and Captain George Croghan of Pennsylvania of the east; and others, driving their pack horses over the mountains and crossing the river in wooden canoes, to stay at Logstown and to trade beads, paint, powder, lead, blankets and rum for furs.

And here came Captain Andrew Montour, who was part Huron and part Seneca and part white, to talk for the Governor of Pennsylvania; and once in a long time the merry Captain Joncaire, half Seneca, from the French of Canada. These two were gaily dressed, and spoke the Iroquois tongue, and were accounted great men.

So that with the Indians in paint, blankets and moccasins, and the traders in whiskers, fur caps and deer-hide shirts, and speech makers like Captains Montour and Joncaire, and the women, children and dogs, Logstown beside the broad, blue Ohio flowing amid forest and meadow, rich in deer, bear and wild turkey, was a stirring town.

Now this summer Juskakaka and White Thunder with speech belts were sent to the council to be held with the English at Albany of New York in the country of the Iroquois council fire.

When they two returned they reported that the French of Canada were getting ready to seize the Ohio River. The Iroquois spies were certain of this, and so were the English.

The Six Nations League of the Iroquois were friends of the English, and enemies of the French. That had long been the case. All the Iroquois lands from the Alleghany Mountains to the setting sun were open to the English; “for,” said the Iroquois, “we have conquered it, and it is yours who are our brothers.”

Therefore, at the big council, the Iroquois agreed to help the English to keep the French out. The English were to put many more traders into the Ohio River country, so that the Indians should be fat with goods and strong to fight.

The Mingos had been directed to talk with the Delawares and the Shawnees, and ask them to take up the hatchet against the French, and against the Ottawas and the Potawatomis of the north, who were allies of the French. But the Delawares and Shawnees of the Ohio were undecided.

King Shingis of the Delawares spoke fiercely. He was a small man, but strong and quick, and his eyes glowed hotly. He hated the English, and wished no white men at all.

“No,” he said. “This is our country. The Delaware are men. They stand on their own ground. If the French and English desire to fight, let them fight in their own land or on the big water. If they fight here, the Indian will be like cloth under a pair of shears and will be cut in pieces. We ask for nothing but to be let alone. Besides, the English are stingy. They give little. The French give much. The Swannoks (which was a name of contempt for the English) fool us with trash and take our lands and drive us out. The French will leave us our lands and live among us.”

And so said King Beaver, of the Delawares farther west, in Ohio.

“The Delaware are not women, to be ordered by the Iroquois,” said King Beaver. “Three times the Iroquois have sold our lands and made us move. Now this is our land and not a Frenchman nor an Englishman shall have one foot of it.”

And so said Killbuck, and Kateuskund. Old Shanopin of Shanopin’s-town said nothing; but the fiery young Cat-a-he-cassa or Blackhoof of the Shawnees cried angrily:

“What our grandfathers the Delaware say, we say. Onontio is a better man than the King of the Swannoks, but we wish no white men except traders in our land.”

The French came. Runners from the Senecas of Venango in the north panted in to declare that the French of Onontio were descending the Allegheny River in twenty-three canoes. There were more than two hundred soldiers and Ottawas under a French captain; and they were sending Captain Joncaire the half-Seneca ahead, to make things ready. They were burying lead plates and nailing up signs at the mouths of the rivers, seizing the land for Onontio, and driving out the English traders.

“The English have not yet come to help us,” said Tanacharison, in the Mingo council. “They should have built a fort with great guns in it, to turn the French back. Let us hear what these French have to say. To show that we are not at war we will put up the flags of the two nations.”

So the King George’s red flag given by the English traders was kept up, and the white French flag sent last year by Captain Joncaire himself was put up. Soon Indians from the outside again hurried in. Delawares of Kittanning up the Allegheny arrived to say that the French had landed there and had found nobody; and the Shawnees and Delawares from Shanopin’s-town arrived to say that the French had passed there; and Mingos and Delawares from fat Queen Allaquippa’s town of the Monongahela south of the Forks arrived to say that the French were there.

And the next noon here came, in a canoe paddled by Ottawas but bearing no soldiers, Captain Joncaire, bringing another French flag.

A swarthy, wrinkled man, was Captain Joncaire; small, lean, quick, dark but gray-haired, constantly smiling and merry, but exceedingly sharp. It was only by his smiles and his white teeth that he showed his French blood. His father was a French officer of Canada, but his mother was a Seneca and he spoke the Seneca tongue.

Now wearing a blue French soldier coat with captain’s epaulets, and gaily beaded leggins and moccasins, and a woodsman’s cap on his long gray hair, and a sword at his belt and a rifle on his back he sprang ashore at Logstown.

“Greetings to my brothers,” he called, in Seneca. “I am come from your father Onontio. A greater one than I am is following with presents and important words. Am I welcome?”

But he was answered with murmurs and black looks. With his Ottawas of the French he strode on to the council house where Tanacharison would be waiting for him. He and the chiefs smoked the calumet pipe; then Tanacharison the Half-King asked:

“What does my brother wish in Shenango?”

“I am come alone,” said Captain Joncaire. “I am a Seneca, I am among brothers. I come from the French of Onontio, who also are my brothers. The great Onontio does not like to see two flags floating in this country which he shares with his red children. He has heard that the English are crossing the mountains into your country and his, and are poisoning the minds of his children. So he is sending a company under a mighty captain down the Beautiful River to talk with his children the Mingo, the Wyandot, the Delaware, the Shawnee. From Shenango the captain goes on to scourge home the Miami and the Wyandot further west who have listened to the false songs of the English. This is French country; our father Onontio wishes all the Indians to live here at peace, but he will have no English traders, who are only spies.”

“Is Onontio at war with the English king across the water?” Half-King asked.

“He is not at war, but his arm is long; it can reach across the water,” said Captain Joncaire. “You know me as your brother. I live in your houses. I tell you the truth. You cannot think to stand still and be the children of the French and of the English both. That is impossible. The English seek to drive you from your lands; the French seek to hold your lands for you. Have the French ever stolen land from under your feet? No! But with the French pulling you one way and the English pushing you another, you will be torn in two. So now the French are coming in to hold you on the land, and the English must get out. They have no right between the mountains and the setting sun.”

“We will talk with the captain sent by Onontio,” said Tanacharison.

When the warriors knew what had been said in the council, Logstown was much excited. Those Indians who wanted no whites at all were in favor of killing the ten English traders in town and not letting the French land. Tanacharison sent the Hunter to tell the traders to be careful and to stay indoors. Those Indians who wished the English were also in favor of not letting the French land and bury plates that would make the country French. The Mingos were for obeying the words of Tanacharison, and hearing what the captain sent by Onontio had to say, under the peace flag. So between the warriors of Tanacharison, helped by Scarouady and White Thunder, and the Delawares and Shawnees of Shingis and Blackhoof, there was hot talk.

In mid-afternoon the fleet of canoes swept into the bend and bore down for Logstown. The paddles flashed, guns glistened, and the white flag with the golden lilies of France streamed in the breeze from the foremost boat.

Everybody rushed to the high bank, where the canoe landing was. The muskets and rifles volleyed—Bang! Bang! Crack! Crack!—in salute and in warning, too, for the bullets splashed the canoes with water.

The canoes, crowded with the sky-blue coats and the white breeches of the soldiery, almost stopped; but the French captain bravely stood up and shouted, in French:

“What is this? Do you fire on your brothers from Onontio? Quit this foolishness or we will give you ball for ball.”

Tanacharison and Scarouady and Captain Joncaire struck aside the barrels of the guns, and the warriors ceased firing. The French came on; they climbed the bank and marched to a piece of higher ground above the town, nearer the forest, and made camp.

They placed guards around their camp; the head captain sent word to the chiefs that he wished to meet them in council; and Half-King replied that he must wait until the chiefs had talked together.

It was another stormy talk. Shingis and Blackhoof were still for war; they would drive off the French and the English both, and many of the Mingos were for wiping out these French anyway. But the French were strong and well guarded in their camp, and Captain Joncaire had friends who would tell him what was being planned. So although the town was in a hubbub through most of the night, nothing was done, and in the morning the council with the French captain, whose name was Céleron, sat to hear what he would say.

Captain Joncaire translated. The French captain, standing up in his best uniform, said:

“Onontio your father speaks to you with these words: Through the love I bear you, my children, I send to you Captain de Céleron to open your eyes to the schemes of the English against your lands. What they mean to do will ruin you. They work in secret, but they plan to build houses upon your lands and settle here and drive you away, if I let them. As a good father who loves his children and far away keeps them always in his heart I warn you of the danger that threatens you. The English plan to rob you of your country, and first they rob you of your minds. They mean to seize the Ohio which belongs to me; so I have ordered Captain de Céleron to tell them to go out, and leave Shenango and all other villages of my children of the Ohio.”

Then Tanacharison answered:

“Our brother from Onontio sees us poor. We are a long way from Onontio. The goods he sends us are many moons getting here. That our wives and children may not go cold and hungry we trade with the English, who are always with us. We ask Onontio to let us trade a little while yet with the English who have come. They are our guests and it is not right to put them out. We understand that you are burying lead plates and nailing up signs to claim this land. We do not know why this is French land. The English say that it is English land. Where is the Indian land? We are made poor; and if we do not get goods from the English we will starve.”

This was a clever speech, which promised nothing. Then the French captain stood again, and said:

“By the gifts that your father sends you he promises to take care of his children. Stand firm against the English, and soon your father will raise a barrier against them and the sky will always be calm over your heads. This shall be your land to enjoy as you please, if you remain true children. As for these English now here, I myself will order them to go back to their own country.”

That he did, after the council. The ten traders agreed to leave, and the French went on down the Beautiful River, to talk with the Wyandots, the Shawnees and the Miamis in the west. But the English traders stayed.

Now Logstown was of several minds again. Old King Shingis was satisfied.

“The English are being driven out,” he said. “That is good. The French speak fair words, and we shall see whether they lie or not. If they think to settle here, we will drive them out, too, for this is Indian land. Then we will be rid of all whites.”

George Croghan, who was a great trader from Pennsylvania and had a store-house in Logstown, came to Tanacharison and said:

“Listen, brother. This is the country of your father Onas.” Onas was the name for the governor of Pennsylvania. “Pay no attention to the twitters of the French, for we pay no attention to them. The French are far, but Onas is near. He it is who sends us over the mountains to trade with you, and our goods are cheap. But these Virginia men plan to settle upon your country and you should watch them, or they will try to buy you with their goods.”

Everybody knew that there was rivalry between the Pennsylvania traders and the Virginia traders. The traders of Onas claimed the right to trade, for they said that the Forks of the Ohio and the country near were Pennsylvania. The Virginians said it all was Virginia.

So Tanacharison went to John Davidson, of the Virginia traders, and said:

“Is it true that Assaragoa (which was the name for the Governor of Virginia) plans to build houses and settle the Indian country?”

John Davidson replied:

“It is true that Assaragoa governs all this country from the mountains to the river, and his traders have the right to trade with you. I think the men from Onas have been talking to you. It is true, too, that your Virginia father is going to send men in to clear land and build a house on this side of the mountains, near the Ohio, and keep the French out. Then the Indians may live in peace.”

“Who will bring these men in?” asked Tanacharison.